dies, goes free or hangs, as you shall decide, Hortensia."

She looked at him, her face haggard, her heart beating high in her
throat as if to suffocate her. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"You love him!" he growled. "Pah! I see it in your eyes--in your
tremors--that you do. It is for him that you are afraid, is't not?"

"Why do you mock me with it?" she inquired with dignity.

"I do not mock you, Hortensia. Answer me! Is it true that you love him?"

"It is true," she answered steadily. "What is't to you?"

"Everything!" he answered hotly. "Everything! It is Heaven and Hell to
me. Ten days ago, Hortensia, I asked you to marry me--"

"No more," she begged him, an arm thrown out to stay him.

"But there is more," he answered, advancing again. "This time I can
make the offer more attractive. Marry me, and Caryll is not only free
to depart, but no evidence shall be laid against him. I swear it! Refuse
me, and he hangs as surely--as surely as you and I talk together here
this moment."

Cold eyes scathed him with contempt. "God!" she cried. "What manner of
monster are you, my lord? To speak so--to speak of marriage to me, and
to speak of hanging a man who is son to that same father of yours who
lies above stairs, not yet turned cold. Are you human at all?"

"Ay--and in nothing so human as in my love for you, Hortensia."

She put her hands to her face. "Give me patience!" she prayed. "The
insult of it after what has passed! Let me go, sir; open that door, and
let me go."

He stood regarding her a moment, with lowering brows. Then he turned,
and went slowly to the door. "He dies, remember!" said he, and the
words, the sinister tone and the sinister look that was stamped upon his
face, shattered her spirit as at a blow.

"No, no!" she faltered, and advanced a step or two. "Oh, have pity!"

"When you show me pity," he answered.

She was beaten. "You--you swear to let him go--to see him safely out of
England--if--if I consent?"

His eyes blazed. He came back swiftly, and she stood, a frozen thing,
passively awaiting him; a frozen thing, she let him take her in his
arms, yielding herself in horrific surrender.

He held her close a moment, the blood surging to his face, and glowing
darkly through the swarthy skin. "Have I conquered, then?" he cried.
"You'll marry me, Hortensia?"

"At that price," she answered piteously, "at that price."

"Shalt find me a gentle, loving husband, ever. I swear it before
Heaven!"