o your sister."

"I would see adders fastened in her ears and twined around her neck
sooner than those--"

"At least take them out of my sight; give them to Mr. Darrington. They
are maddening reminders of a perished past. Now, to the last iota, I
have made all possible restitution, and the account is squared; for in
exchange for that life, which I am condemned as having taken, my own is
the forfeit. The expiation is complete."

She seemed to have forgotten his presence, as her gaze rested on the
ring she wore, and a happy smile momentarily glorified the pale face.

"Beryl!--"

She started, winced, shivered; and threw up her hand with the haughty
denial he so well remembered.

"Hush! Only my precious dead ever called me so. You must not dare!"

Something she read in the face that leaned toward her, filled her with
vague dread, and despite her efforts, she trembled visibly.

"Mr. Dunbar, I am very weary; tired--oh! how tired, body and soul."

"You dismiss me? Recollect I was warned that this would be the last
interview accorded me, and I beg your indulgence. If you knew all, if
you could imagine one-half the sorrow you have caused me, you would
consider our accounts as satisfactorily balanced as your settlement
with the Darringtons. Whether you have ruined my life, or are destined
to purify and exalt it, remains to be determined. To see you as you
are, is almost beyond my powers of endurance, and for my own sake--mark
you--to ease my own heart, I shall redouble my efforts to have you
liberated. There is one speedy process, the discovery of the man whom,
thus far, you have shielded so effectually; and next week I begin the
hunt in earnest by going West."

He saw her fingers clutch each other, and the artery in her throat
throb quickly.

"How many victims are required to appease the manes of Gen'l
Darrington? Be satisfied with having sacrificed me, and waste no more
time in search that can bring neither recompense to you, nor
consolation to me. If I can bear my fate, you, sir, have no right to
interfere."

"Then, like the selfish man I am, I usurp the right. What damnable
infatuation can bind you to that miserable poltroon, who skulks in
safety, knowing that the penalty of his evil deeds falls on you? One
explanation has suggested itself: it haunts me like a fiend, and only
you can exorcise it. Are you married to that brute, and is it loyalty
that nerves you? For God's sake do not trifle, tell me the truth."