not true!' she cried; 'Mr. Blake would never do such a thing.
There is some mistake. Promise me no word shall be uttered as to this.
Mr. Kaffar has left, as he said, and gone back to Egypt. Why, then,
should such a terrible suspicion be aroused? I will answer for Mr.
Blake's innocence.'

"'You answer, Miss Forrest?' cried Voltaire. 'Nay, you cannot. I would I
could be merciful, but it must not be. My friend's spirit would haunt
me from town to town and land to land.'

"'Mr. Temple,' she cried to me, 'you will not tell, will you? You will
not spread such a deceptive story about?'

"'No,' I replied, 'I will not. Like you, I think there must be a mistake.
My friend Justin could never do this.'

"'There,' she cried to Voltaire; 'there's only you to be silent. Do it
for my sake!'"

I could not help feeling a great throb of joy in my heart at this. I was
sure now that she loved me. I could bear anything after hearing those
words. I was happy in spite of the terrible net that was woven around
me.

"'For your sake,' said Voltaire--'for your sake I could do almost
anything. For your sake I could give up home, friends, happiness, life.
Yes, I say this, here, in the presence of my friend Temple. I could
forego anything for you. I would sacrifice father and mother for you.'"

I gave a great start.

"Justin, that man trembled like a leaf. His face became ashy pale; his
terrible eyes became brighter than ever.

"'You ask me much,' he continued. 'You ask me to give up what is now the
dearest object of my life--except one. But, ah! I am an Eastern. I am
selfish; I cannot sacrifice disinterestedly. There is only one thing for
which I can give up my scheme of vengeance.'

"'Tell me what it is,' she cried.

"'Ah, sweet lady, I dare not tell; and yet I must. It is you. Be my wife,
Miss Forrest; let me call you by your name, and I will wipe the blood
from this knife, I will destroy every evidence of the dark deed. Justin
Blake shall not lie in a prison cell; his name shall not be a synonym
for devilry; he shall not be mentioned with loathing.'"

"And what then?" I cried. "What was her answer?"

"Man, she looked at him with loathing, but he did not see it.

"'Be your wife?' she said.

"'My wife, Miss Forrest,' he replied. 'Love cannot be greater than mine.
I love the very ground on which you walk. Be my wife and I will be your
slave. Your every desire shall be granted, and I will give up that which
is dear to me.'

"'And