fessor's. Everybody would say I was malicious or hysterical. Hysteria
is always an easy stone to fling at an injured woman who asks for
justice. They would declare I had trumped up the case to forestall my
dismissal. They would set it down to spite. We can do nothing against
him. Remember, on his part, the utter absence of overt motive."

"And you mean to stop on here, in close attendance on a man who has
attempted your life?" I cried, really alarmed for her safety.

"I am not sure about that," she answered. "I must take time to think. My
presence at Nathaniel's was necessary to my Plan. The Plan fails for the
present. I have now to look round and reconsider my position."

"But you are not safe here now," I urged, growing warm. "If Sebastian
really wishes to get rid of you, and is as unscrupulous as you suppose,
with his gigantic brain he can soon compass his end. What he plans he
executes. You ought not to remain within the Professor's reach one hour
longer."

"I have thought of that, too," she replied, with an almost unearthly
calm. "But there are difficulties either way. At any rate, I am glad
he did not succeed this time. For, to have killed me now, would have
frustrated my Plan"--she clasped her hands--"my Plan is ten thousand
times dearer than life to me!"

"Dear lady!" I cried, drawing a deep breath, "I implore you in this
strait, listen to what I urge. Why fight your battle alone? Why refuse
assistance? I have admired you so long--I am so eager to help you. If
only you will allow me to call you--"

Her eyes brightened and softened. Her whole bosom heaved. I felt in a
flash she was not wholly indifferent to me. Strange tremors in the air
seemed to play about us. But she waved me aside once more. "Don't press
me," she said, in a very low voice. "Let me go my own way. It is hard
enough already, this task I have undertaken, without YOUR making it
harder.... Dear friend, dear friend, you don't quite understand. There
are TWO men at Nathaniel's whom I desire to escape--because they both
alike stand in the way of my Purpose." She took my hands in hers. "Each
in a different way," she murmured once more. "But each I must avoid.
One is Sebastian. The other--" she let my hand drop again, and broke
off suddenly. "Dear Hubert," she cried, with a catch, "I cannot help it:
forgive me!"

It was the first time she had ever called me by my Christian name. The
mere sound of the word made me unspeakably happy.

Yet she wav