d be
satisfied and take no further steps against you."

"But I wasn't already married," she said, puzzled.

"Wait, wait, please," he begged, "keep that in your mind, that I was
satisfied van Heerden wanted you for your money, and that if you were
already married or even if you weren't and he thought you were I could
save you from dangers, the extent of which even I do not know. And there
was a man named Homo, a crook. He had been a parson and had all the
manner and style of his profession. So I got a special licence in my own
name."

"You?" she said breathlessly. "A marriage licence? To marry me?"

He nodded.

"And I took Homo with me in my search for you. I knew that I should have
a very small margin of time, and I thought if Homo performed the
ceremony and I could confront van Heerden with the accomplished
deed----"

She sprang to her feet with a laugh.

"Oh, I see, I see," she said. "Oh, how splendid! And you went through
this mock ceremony! Where was I?"

"You were at the window," he said miserably.

"But how lovely! And you were outside and your parson with the funny
name--but that's delicious! So I wasn't married at all and this is your
ring." She picked it up with a mocking light in her eyes, and held it
out to him, but he shook his head.

"You were married," he said, in a voice which was hardly audible.

"Married? How?"

"Homo was not a fake! He was a real clergyman! And the marriage was
legal!"

They looked at one another without speaking. On the girl's part there
was nothing but pure amazement; but Stanford Beale read horror,
loathing, consternation and unforgiving wrath, and waited, as the
criminal waits for his sentence, upon her next words.

"So I am really married--to you," she said wonderingly.

"You will never forgive me, I know." He did not look at her now. "My own
excuse is that I did what I did because I--wanted to save you. I might
have sailed in with a gun and shot them up. I might have waited my
chance and broken into the house. I might have taken a risk and
surrounded the place with police, but that would have meant delay. I
didn't do the normal things or take the normal view--I couldn't with
you."

He did not see the momentary tenderness in her eyes, because he was not
looking at her, and went on:

"That's the whole of the grisly story. Mr. Kitson will advise you as to
what steps you may take to free yourself. It was a most horrible
blunder, and it was all the more tragic