not save yourself, you cannot kill my love!"

She had tried to take his hand and he had withdrawn his, she had fallen
upon her knees, and as he tried to free himself had fallen almost to
her length upon the marble floor, clinging to his very feet, so that he
could make no step without doing her some hurt. He looked down, amazed
and silent, and as he looked she cast one glance upward to his stern
face, the bright tears streaming like falling gems from her unlike eyes,
her face pale and quivering, her rich hair all loosened and falling
about her.

And then, neither body, nor heart, nor soul, could bear the enormous
strain that was laid upon them. A low cry broke from her lips, a stormy
sob, another and another, like quick short waves breaking over the bar
when the tide is low and the wind is rising suddenly.

The Wanderer was in sore straits, for the minutes were passing quickly
and he remembered the last look on Kafka's face, and how he had left the
Moravian standing before the weapons on the wall. And nothing had been
done yet, not so much as an order given not to admit him if he came to
the house. At any moment he might be upon them. And the storm showed no
signs of being spent. Her wild, convulsive sobbing was painful to hear.
If he tried to move, she dragged herself frantically at his feet so that
he feared lest he should tread upon her hands. He pitied her now most
truly, though he guessed rightly that to show his pity would be but to
add fuel to the blazing flame.

Then, in the interval of a second, as she drew breath to weep afresh, he
fancied that he heard sounds below as of the great door being opened
and closed again. With a quick, strong movement, stooping low he put his
arms about her and raised her from the floor. At his touch, her sobbing
ceased for a moment, as though she had wanted only that to soothe her.
In spite of him she let her head rest upon his shoulder, letting him
still feel that if he did not support her weight with his arm she would
fall again. In the midst of the most passionate and real outburst of
despairing love there was no artifice which she would not use to be
nearer to him, to extort even the semblance of a caress.

"I heard some one come in below," he said, hurriedly. "It must be he.
Decide quickly what to do. Either stay or fly--you have not ten seconds
for your choice."

She turned her imploring eyes to his.

"Let me stay here and end it all--"

"That you shall not!" he exc