me over to that."

"I must!"

Corinna said very low: "I love you. Isn't that enough? Costs me
something to say it. Costs me my pride. It would have been more
merciful to beat me with a club. I cannot entreat you. I never
learned how. But--but I am entreating you. Love me, Evan. Let us
begin from now. Let the past be past."

Evan was tempted then. His senses reeled. But something held fast.
"I can't!" he said.

She shrank sharply. "It is useless, then," she muttered. "I will not
be a repentant sinner!"

"For the sake of our love, Corinna!"

"You do not love me. You want to master me."

He groaned in his helplessness.

Suddenly an ominous peremptory knock on the front door rang through the
empty house.

"The police!" gasped Evan.

"Then it's over!" said Corinna, desperately calm.

"No!" he cried. "Quick! Write! I'll get you out!"

She dragged him towards the door. "Ah, come! come!" she beseeched him.

The very heart was dragged out of his breast, but he resisted her.
"Choose!" he whispered. "A living death or happiness!"

For an instant their desperate eyes contended. Corinna read in his
that he would never give in. She ran to the box and scribbled three
lines. The knock was repeated below.

She handed him the sheet with averted head. Evan blew out the lamp.
Hand in hand they ran softly down-stairs. The knock was repeated for
the third time and a gruff voice commanded:

"Open the door or we'll break it down!"

Aunt Liza was in the lower hall whimpering: "Lawsy! What you gwine do,
Miss?" And behind her they heard Simeon Deaves muttering confusedly:
"What's the matter? What's the matter?"

Evan breathed in Corinna's ear. "The cellar door under the stairs.
You lead the woman."

He felt for Simeon Deaves, and got his hand. "Follow me," he
whispered. "I'll save you."

Deaves came unresistingly, his old wits in a daze. As Evan got the
cellar door open the blows were falling on the front door. He flashed
his light to show his little party the way down. He came last and
closed the door. As he did so the front door went in with a crash.
Joining the others, Evan whispered:

"Take it easy. They'll search the rooms first."

The old man whispered tremulously: "What's the matter? I don't
understand."

"Be very quiet," returned Evan. "We're taking you home now. Be quiet
and there will be no publicity."

It was a magical suggestion. They heard no more from Deaves.