ood. I'm done for--beaten on the straight. And that hell
hound Monck--"

"Damn you! Be quiet!" said Tommy in a furious undertone.

"I won't be quiet. I'll have--my turn--such as it is. Where's Stella?
Fetch Stella! I've a right to that anyway. She is--my lawful wife!"

"I can't fetch her," said Tommy.

"All right then. You can tell her--from me--that she's been duped--as I
was. She's mine--not his. He came--with that cock-and-bull story
about--the other woman. But she was dead--I've found out since. She was
dead--and he knew it. He faked up the tale--to suit himself. He wanted
her--the damn skunk--wanted her--and cheated--cheated--to get her."

He stopped, checked by a terrible gurgle in the throat. Tommy, white
with passion, broke fiercely into his gasping silence.

"It's a damned lie! Monck is a white man! He never did--a thing like
that!"

And then he too stopped in sheer horror at the devilish hatred that
gleamed in the rolling, bloodshot eyes.

A few dreadful seconds passed. Then Ralph Dacre gathered his ebbing life
in one last great effort of speech. "She is my wife. I hold the proof.
If it hadn't been for this--I'd have taken her from him--to-night. He
ruined me--and he robbed me. But I--I'll ruin him now. It's my turn. He
is not--her husband, and she--she'll scorn him after this--if I know
her. Consoled herself precious soon. Yes, women are like that. But they
don't forgive so easily. And she--is not--the forgiving sort--anyway.
She'll never forgive him for tricking her--the hound! She'll never
forget that the child--her child--is a bastard. And--the Regiment--won't
forget either. He's down--and out."

He ceased to speak. Tommy's hands were clenched. If the man had been on
his feet, he would have struck him on the mouth. As it was, he could
only kneel in impotence and listen to the amazing utterance that fell
from the gasping lips.

He felt stunned into passivity. His anger had strangely sunk away,
though he regarded the man he supported with such an intensity of
loathing that he marvelled at himself for continuing to endure the
contact. The astounding revelation had struck him like a blow between
the eyes. He felt numb, almost incapable of thought.

He heard Ralston returning and wondered what he could have been doing in
that interminable interval. Then, reluctant but horribly fascinated, his
look went back to the upturned, dreadful face. The malignancy had gone
out of it. The eyes rolled no longer