nking of Hubert, however, but of another man whom she had loved,
and whom she had seen condemned to death for the murder of Sydney Vane.

Hubert put out his left hand and drew her close to him. Even now there
was one thing that he dared not say; he did not dare ask her whether she
could love a man who had allowed another to bear the punishment which
he had deserved, although he had hidden his guilt from a desire to save
another rather than himself. He remained for a few moments in the same
posture, with his face hidden on his right arm and his left encircling
Cynthia; but, after a time, he stood up, drew her closer to his breast
and kissed her forehead. Then he put her away from him and crossed his
arms across his chest. His face was pale and drawn, there were beads of
perspiration on his forehead, and his lip was bitten underneath his
thick moustache.

"Cynthia," he said hoarsely, "to you, at least, I will try to be an
honest man. I never knew a woman as brave, as true as you are; I'll do
my best, at any rate, to be not altogether unworthy of you, my darling.
I would give all I have in the world if I could ask you to marry me,
Cynthia; but I can't. There is an obstacle; you were right--I am not
free."

"I thought there was some real reason," she said quietly. "I knew you
would not have spoken as you did without a reason."

"I am not engaged; or perhaps I should say that I am engaged, and that
she is free. If at the end of two years she is stronger in health, and
her uncle withdraws his opposition, and she cares to accept me, I have
promised to be ready. The last thing I ever meant was to ask any other
woman to be my wife. But I was weak enough not to deny myself the
bitter-sweet solace of telling you that I loved you; and thus I have
drawn down punishment on myself. Cynthia, can you ever forgive me?"

She did not answer; she seemed to be thinking deeply. After a few
minutes' silence, she looked at him wistfully, and asked another
question.

"You said she did not love you. Was that true?"

"I believe so."

"Then why does she want to marry you?" There was something child-like in
Cynthia's tone.

"I don't think she does, Cynthia; I think it is only her uncle's wife
who has been trying to bring about a marriage between us; and perhaps it
was my conviction that this marriage would never come about which made
me less careful than I might have been. Assuredly I never intended to
tell you what I told you last night.