tread, and the madness passed away. It was a man's footsteps, but not
Paul's.

They halted at my door, and there was a firm, deliberate knock. Before
I could reply, the handle was turned, and a figure stood upon the
threshold.

My little chamber was in darkness, but the clear, cold voice struck a
vague note of familiarity.

"I seek Adrea Kiros! Are these her rooms? Are you she?"

I struck a match with trembling fingers, and looked eagerly towards
the doorway. A man stood there, dark, stern, and forbidding, looking
steadfastly towards me. My memory had not deceived me! It was Father
Adrian!

"You have found me out," I said slowly. "Come inside and close the
door."

He moved slowly forward, and stood in the middle of the room. His
face was as white as marble and as steadfast; but his dark eyes, which
seemed to be challenging mine to meet them, were full of smouldering
fire. I summoned up all my courage, and threw myself into a low chair,
with a little laugh.

"You are not exactly cordial," I said. "If you have anything to say to
me, won't you sit down?"

"If I have anything to say to you!" he repeated, and his whole tone
seemed vibrating with hardly subdued passion. "If I have anything to
say to you! Is this your greeting?"

"Why, no, not if you come as a friend! But when you stand and glare at
me _comme cela_, what do you expect? Nothing very cordial, surely!"

He advanced a step further towards me. I watched him steadfastly,
and I knew that the old madness was not dead. I was glad. It made the
struggle between us more even.

"Have I no cause to look at you sternly, Adrea?" he demanded,--"you
who deceived us! you who lied to us, to win our aid! Where would you
have been now had it not been for me? At Cruta! Would to God my hand
had withered before it had set you free!"

"You are very kind!"

"Girl, are you mad? At Cruta you were thoughtless and gay, but God
knows your heart was pure. Now you are a paid dancing girl!"

I turned upon him suddenly, rising to my full height, and looking him
straight in the face. He did not flinch, but a faint colour rose to
his forehead as he continued.

"Stop!" I said. "You are talking of those things which you do
not understand. You could not possibly understand. You and I are
different; we belong to different worlds. The things of your world are
not the things of mine. Leave me now, and for ever, and let us go our
own ways. We measure things by different quantities. Y