t there...
O my God, let us make an end! Let us go our ways and write 'finis' to
this horrible chapter of our lives."

M. le La Tour considered him gravely, sadly, in silence for a moment.

"Perhaps it is best," he said, at length, in a small voice. He turned to
Mme. de Plougastel. "If a wrong I have to admit in my life, a wrong
that I must bitterly regret, it is the wrong that I have done to you, my
dear..."

"Not now, Gervais! Not now!" she faltered, interrupting him.

"Now--for the first and the last time. I am going. It is not likely that
we shall ever meet again--that I shall ever see any of you again--you who
should have been the nearest and dearest to me. We are all, he says, the
sport of destiny. Ah, but not quite. Destiny is an intelligent force,
moving with purpose. In life we pay for the evil that in life we do.
That is the lesson that I have learnt to-night. By an act of betrayal
I begot unknown to me a son who, whilst as ignorant as myself of our
relationship, has come to be the evil genius of my life, to cross
and thwart me, and finally to help to pull me down in ruin. It is
just--poetically just. My full and resigned acceptance of that fact is
the only atonement I can offer you."

He stooped and took one of madame's hands that lay limply in her lap.

"Good-bye, Therese!" His voice broke. He had reached the end of his iron
self-control.

She rose and clung to him a moment, unashamed before them. The ashes of
that dead romance had been deeply stirred this night, and deep down some
lingering embers had been found that glowed brightly now before their
final extinction. Yet she made no attempt to detain him. She understood
that their son had pointed out the only wise, the only possible course,
and was thankful that M. de La Tour d'Azyr accepted it.

"God keep you, Gervais," she murmured. "You will take the safe-conduct,
and... and you will let me know when you are safe?"

He held her face between his hands an instant; then very gently kissed
her and put her from him. Standing erect, and outwardly calm again, he
looked across at Andre-Louis who was proffering him a sheet of paper.

"It is the safe-conduct. Take it, monsieur. It is my first and last gift
to you, and certainly the last gift I should ever have thought of making
you--the gift of life. In a sense it makes us quits. The irony, sir, is
not mine, but Fate's. Take it, monsieur, and go in peace."

M. de La Tour d'Azyr took it. His eyes looked