us
to return to my husband."

The Prince said nothing. Lady Carey, glancing towards him at that
moment, was surprised at certain signs of disquietude in his face which
startled her.

"What is the matter with you?" she asked almost roughly.

"Matter with me? Nothing," he answered. "Why this unaccustomed
solicitude?"

Lady Carey looked into his face fiercely. He was pale, and there was
a strained look about his eyes. He seemed, too, to be listening. From
outside in the street came faintly to their ears the cry of a newsboy.

"Get me an evening paper," she whispered in his ear.

He got up and left the box. Lucille was watching the people below and
had not appreciated the significance of what had been passing between
the two. Lady Carey leaned back in the box with half-closed eyes. Her
fingers were clenched nervously together, her bosom was rising and
falling quickly. If he had dared to defy her! What was it the newsboys
were calling? What a jargon! Why did not Saxe Leinitzer return?
Perhaps he was afraid! Her heart stood still for a moment, and a little
half-stifled cry broke from her lips. Lucille looked around quickly.

"What is the matter, Muriel?" she asked. "Are you faint?"

"Faint, no," Lady Carey answered roughly. "I'm quite well. Don't take
any notice of me. Do you hear? Don't look at me."

Lucille obeyed. Lady Carey sat quite still with her hand pressed to her
side. It was a stifling pain. She was sure that she had heard at
last. "Sudden death of a visitor at the Carlton Hotel." The place was
beginning to go round.

Saxe Leinitzer returned. His face to her seemed positively ghastly. He
carried an evening paper in his hand. She snatched it away from him. It
was there before her in bold, black letters:

"Sudden death in the Carlton Hotel."

Her eyes, dim a moment ago, suddenly blazed fire upon him.

"It shall be a life for a life," she whispered. "If you have killed him
you shall die."

Lucille looked at them bewildered. And just then came a sharp tap at the
box door. No one answered it, but the door was softly opened. Mr. Sabin
stood upon the threshold.

"Pray, don't let me disturb you," he said. "I was unable to refrain from
paying you a brief visit. Why, Prince, Lady Carey! I can assure you that
I am no ghost."

He glanced from one to the other with a delicate smile of mockery
parting his thin lips. For upon the Prince's forehead the perspiration
stood out like beads, and he shrank away from