would awake every morning, and say to myself, 'It is all over,
she has ceased to love me!' This great sorrow stared me in the face
day and night in spite of all my efforts to dispel it. And you speak of
forgetfulness! I sought it at the bottom of poisoned cups, but found it
not. I tried to extinguish this memory of the past, that tears my heart
to shreds like a devouring flame; in vain. When the body succumbed, the
pitiless heart kept watch. With this corroding torture making life a
burden, do you wonder that I should seek rest which can only be obtained
by suicide?"

"I forbid you to utter that word."

"You forget, Madeleine, that you have no right to forbid me, unless you
love me. Love would make you all powerful, and me obedient."

With an imperious gesture Madeleine interrupted him as if she wished to
speak, and perhaps to explain all, to exculpate herself.

But a sudden thought stopped her; she clasped her hands despairingly,
and cried:

"My God! this suffering is beyond endurance!"

Prosper seemed to misconstrue her words.

"Your pity comes too late," he said. "There is no happiness in store for
one like myself, who has had a glimpse of divine felicity, had the
cup of bliss held to his lips, and then dashed to the ground. There
is nothing left to attach me to life. You have destroyed my holiest
beliefs; I came forth from prison disgraced by my enemies; what is to
become of me? Vainly do I question the future; for me there is no hope
of happiness. I look around me to see nothing but abandonment, ignominy,
and despair!"

"Prosper, my brother, my friend, if you only knew----"

"I know but one thing, Madeleine, and that is, that you no longer love
me, and that I love you more madly than ever. Oh, Madeleine, God only
knows how I love you!"

He was silent. He hoped for an answer. None came.

But suddenly the silence was broken by a stifled sob.

It was Madeleine's maid, who, seated in a corner, was weeping bitterly.

Madeleine had forgotten her presence.

Prosper had been so surprised at finding Madeleine when he entered
the room, that he kept his eyes fastened upon her face, and never once
looked about him to see if anyone else were present.

He turned in surprise and looked at the weeping woman.

He was not mistaken: this neatly dressed waiting-maid was Nina Gypsy.

Prosper was so startled that he became perfectly dumb. He stood there
with ashy lips, and a chilly sensation creeping through his vei