red ready to sink
beneath her.

"Come, then, Mary Connynge!" cried Law at last, his teeth setting
savagely together. "Come, then, traitress and slave, and kneel before
me, as you did once before!"

Then there ensued a strange and horrible spectacle. A hush as of death
fell upon the group. Mary Connynge, trembling, halting, yet always
advancing, did indeed as her master had bidden! She passed from the head
of the table, back of the chair of the regent, who stood gazing with
horror in his eyes; she passed the chair of Aisse, near which Law now
stood; she paused in front of him, and stood as though in a dream. Her
knees would have indeed sunk beneath her. She drew from her bosom a
silken kerchief, as though she would indeed have performed the ignoble
service which had been threatened for her. There came neither voice nor
motion to those who saw this thing. The sheer force of one strong
nature, terrible in the intensity of one supreme moment--this might have
been the spell which commanded at the table of the regent. Yet this did
occur.

There came a sound which broke the silence, which caused all to start as
with swift relief. A sob, short, dry, hard, as from one whose heart is
broken, came from beyond the place where Law stood facing the trembling
woman. The eyes of all turned upon Will Law, from whom had burst this
irrepressible exclamation of agony. Will Law, as one grown swiftly old,
haggard, broken-down, stood gazing in wide-eyed horror at this woman, so
humiliated in the presence of all in this brilliantly-lighted hall;
before the blazing mirrors which should have reflected back naught but
beauty and joy; under the twining roses, which should have been the
signs manual of undying love; under the smiling cherubs, which should
have typified the deities of happy love. Will Law, too, had loved.
Perhaps still he loved.

This sharp sound served to break also the spell under which Law himself
seemed held. He cast aloft his arms, as in remorse or in despair. Then
he extended a hand to the woman who would have sunk before him.

"God forgive me! Madam," he cried. "I had forgot. Savage indeed you are
and have been, but 'tis not for me to treat you brutally."

"Your Grace," said he, turning toward the regent, "I crave your
pardon. Our explanations shall reach you on the morrow."

[Illustration]

He turned, and taking his brother by the arm, advanced toward the door
at which he had recently entered, pausing not to look b