through the shadow-land of death. Once you loved me,
far off and dim though that time may seem to you. You would be
faithful always, you swore, as side by side we stood on board
your yacht on the night of our flight, and watched the shores
of Cruta grow dimmer and dimmer, and the white-faced dawn
break quivering upon the waters. You would be faithful always!
The words come back to me as I lie here in this great, dreary
bedchamber, with a cold-faced priest muttering comfortless
prayers by my side; dying alone, without a single kindly face
to lighten my passage to the grave. Yet, do not read this as
a reproach! Read it only as the prelude to this my last appeal
to you! Marry me, Martin! It would cost you so little: just
a hurried journey here, a few sentences over my bedside, a
week's waiting at the most, and you could see me in my grave,
and feel yourself free again. Is it too great a thing to do,
to make light the heart of a dying woman? I pray God that you
may not think so! You have generosity! I appeal to it! Come,
I beseech you! It is the prayer of a dying woman! I summon you
to Cruta!

"IRENE."

"'Back again in the meshes of my old sin. The letter fluttered down
from between my fingers on to the floor, and I stood with folded arms
and bowed head, arraigned at the bar of my own judgment. I had marred
a girl's fair young life! The memory of those old days--my passionate
persuasions and prayers--swept in upon me. Yes! she had trusted me,
and I had deceived her! Her sin and her death lay at my door! The
hideous rascality of the thing oppressed me. I had been false to my
name and traditions.

"'A cold, low voice from the other end of the room broke in upon my
surging thoughts. It was Count Hirsfeld who spoke.

"'"Forgive me for disturbing your doubtless pleasant reflections, but
time flies, and time is very precious to me just now. I await your
answer."

"'"It is not necessary," I replied; "I shall be at Cruta before you!"

CHAPTER XXVI

"LATE THOU COMEST, CRUEL THOU HAST BEEN"

"'I sped through England and across the Continent southwards as fast
as express train and steamer could carry me. Count Hirsfeld shared the
special which carried me from our nearest country station to the Great
Northern junction, from whence the Scotch mail bore us to London. Here
we parted company, travelling the