ould not my fortune do instead?" she asked.

"Oh! what a poor substitute you offer me," Montalvo said, with a return
to his hateful banter. Then he added, "That offer might be considered
were it not for the abominable laws which you have here. In practice it
would be almost impossible for you to hand over any large sum, much of
which is represented by real estate, to a man who is not your husband.
Therefore I am afraid I must stipulate that you and your possessions
shall not be separated."

Again Lysbeth sat silent. Montalvo, watching her with genuine interest,
saw signs of rebellion, perchance of despair. He saw the woman's mental
and physical loathing of himself conquering her fears for Dirk. Unless
he was much mistaken she was about to defy him, which, as a matter of
fact, would have proved exceedingly awkward, as his pecuniary resources
were exhausted. Also on the very insufficient evidence which he
possessed he would not have dared to touch Dirk, and thus to make
himself a thousand powerful enemies.

"It is strange," he said, "that the irony of circumstances should reduce
me to pleading for a rival. But, Lysbeth van Hout, before you answer
I beg you to think. Upon the next movements of your lips it depends
whether that body you love shall be stretched upon the rack, whether
those eyes which you find pleasant shall grow blind with agony in the
darkness of a dungeon, and whether that flesh which you think desirable
shall scorch and wither in the furnace. Or, on the other hand, whether
none of these things shall happen, whether this young man shall go free,
to be for a month or two a little piqued--a little bitter--about the
inconstancy of women, and then to marry some opulent and respected
heretic. Surely you could scarcely hesitate. Oh! where is the
self-sacrificing spirit of the sex of which we hear so much? Choose."

Still there was no answer. Montalvo, playing his trump card, drew from
his vest an official-looking document, sealed and signed.

"This," he said, "is the information to be given to the incorruptible
Ruard Trapper. Look, here written on it is your cousin's name. My
servant waits for me in your kitchen. If you hesitate any longer, I call
him and in your presence charge him to hand that paper to the messenger
who starts this afternoon for Brussels. Once given it cannot be recalled
and the pious Dirk's doom is sealed."

Lysbeth's spirit began to break. "How can I?" she asked. "It is true
that we ar