nsferred
his worthless affections elsewhere. Things went from bad to worse. There
were times when he even beat me--and I could not retaliate. I had come
to my senses; I recognised the hand of retribution, and accepted my
punishment. But what wonder that in my misery I learned to seek oblivion
in the wine cup? Perhaps my worthless husband first gave me the idea of
this temptation, for he was seldom sober. It was in one of those
terrible moments that he fell from a height and so injured himself that
after five days of intense agony he died. I was free but penniless; knew
not where to go, which way to turn. I had not a friend in the world--all
had forsaken me. There was but one thing I could do. I had a voice and
could sing. I sang in cafes, at small concerts, wherever I could get an
engagement and earn a trifle. Now I am in Zaragoza. Most nights I sing
in the great cafe, but my small earnings all go in the same way--to
satisfy my craving for wine. Wine, wine, wine; it is my one sin, but oh!
I feel that it is fatal. I know that it is surely drawing my feet to the
grave. And after that?"

She shuddered; then pointed to a tawdry image of the Virgin, before
which we stood.

"There, before that altar, I have knelt day after day and prayed to be
delivered; but I have prayed in vain; no answer comes, and the chains
are binding about me. Senor, I saw you enter; recognised that you were a
stranger. Something told me I might address you and you would at least
listen; would not spurn me or turn away in hateful contempt. But what
can you do? I have asked for alms. I have told you I am starving--and
so I am; but it is the soul that is starving more than the body. You
will bestow your charity upon me--I know you will--and it will not go in
food but in wine. Ah, if you could cure me, or give me an antidote that
would send me into a sleep from which I should never waken, that indeed
would be the greatest and truest charity."

Then we realised that the pale face and pinched look were not due to
want of food. The cause was deeper and more hopeless. It was one of the
saddest stories we had ever listened to; and it came upon us so abruptly
that we felt helpless and bewildered: sick at heart at the very thought
of our want of power to minister to this mind diseased.

"Give us your name and address," we said, after trying to think out the
situation. "Let us see if there is any way of escape for you. Your sad
story has clouded the sunshine.