They are all gone; she and Stepan,--and my master--"

"He is dead, then?"

"Should I be here if he were living? No, they did not kill him. I think
he really died when she did,--that his soul passed, as it were, with
hers; though he made no sign, as you know. I found him,--it is more than
a week since,--in the early morning, sitting at the table where she used
to write, his head on his arms,--so. He was dead and cold,--and I
thanked God for it. There was a smile on his face--"

His deep voice broke for the first time, and he sat silent for a
space,--and I did.

"And so,--I came away," he resumed presently. "I have come to you,
because he loved you. It was not his wish, but hers, that you should be
deceived, made use of. I think she felt it as a kind of justice that
she should press you into the service of the Cause,--as she meant to do
from the moment she heard of you. And it was quite easy, since you never
suspected that she was not the Fraulein you knew, and loved--_hein_? She
herself, too, had borne the burden so long, had toiled, and schemed, and
suffered for the Cause; while this sister had always been shielded; knew
nothing, cared nothing for the Cause,--though, indirectly, she had
suffered somewhat through that mistake on the part of Selinski's
accomplices. Therefore this sister should give her lover to the Cause;
that was the thought in her mind, I am sure. She was wrong; but we must
not judge her too harshly, my friend!"

"God forbid!" I said huskily.

* * * * *

All that was over a year ago, and now, my task done, I sit at my
writing-table by a western window and watch the sun, a clear red ball,
sink into the Atlantic. We are at Pencarrow, for Anthony Pendennis has
at last returned to his own house. He is my father-in-law now, for Anne
and I were married in the spring, and returned after a long honeymoon to
Pencarrow. We found Mishka settled on a farm near, as much at home there
as if he had lived in England all his life. He speaks English quite
creditably,--with a Cornish accent,--and I hear that it won't be long
before the farm has a mistress, a plump, bright-eyed widow who is going
to change her present name of Stiddyford for that of Pavloff.

We are quite a family party just now, for Jim and Mary Cayley and the
baby,--a smart little chap; I'm his godfather,--have come down to spend
Easter; and Mr. and Mrs. Treherne will drive over from Morwen vicarage,
for Mary's mat