se and compelled him. His eyes
brightened before he did the deed. With a sweep, he shattered the hand
that held the slender glass, and snatching up a silver knife from the
table he poised it for an instant: then buried it to the hilt.

It struck just below her left ear. It obliterated the little black
patch. With a sound more like a hiss than a cry the woman drooped to her
divan. The music stopped with a frightened crash. The dancing-girl fled
with a shriek; but Harland stood immovable, exultant, holding his hands
ready to strangle if the wound did not kill. His face, but now so weak,
had acquired an inexorable strength. Strange! At this moment he felt
himself not a murderer, but a man.

He watched his victim dying, without a word; and when her curse was
spent, he turned and walked triumphantly back through the wasted
magnificence to the room from whence he had come.

He did not hurry. At first, he did not apprehend arrest. He felt as if
he had accomplished a great deed. Without looking back he closed the
door and sought for his hat. He put it on and made for the outer
entrance. He tried it and found it locked.

Now at last he began to comprehend his situation. Terror fell upon him.
Cold drops bathed him. The enormity of his act flashed upon his
conscience. _Kill!_ Kill a _woman_? He struggled at the window and the
door. Both were impervious. He dared not go back. How could he look at
her? Escape was cut off. His head became clotted with the old
sensations. Fear, such as makes a man's heart stand still, assailed him.
He looked in vain for the flask. It was gone. With a loud cry, he flung
himself upon the sofa and fainted dead away.

How long he lay there of course he did not know. Soon, vague
cerebrations began to torture his mind. It burned as if it were being
recalled to life from a frozen state. Then, soaring upward from deeps
beyond the deeps, supported through irremediable turmoil by an
overwhelming power, he felt himself gently laid upon a couch. There was
a moment when the brain, recovering its equilibrium, swam and spun. Then
suddenly he found consciousness and emerged through the mist of pain. He
tried to use his limbs, but could not rise. With an effort he strove to
loosen his tongue, but could not speak. With desperate will he
endeavored to open his eyes. Their lids were riveted together. This was
no hallucination. He was never more alert nor more helpless.

He knew that some one was bending over him.