man I addressed were one and the same. Now----"

"Well, now?"

"You have but to accuse the woman called Madame. The man you have just
sent away would forgive you his disappointment if you gave him the
supreme satisfaction of carrying doom to the still more formidable
being who prophesies death to those for whom she has already prepared a
violent end."

"Irene!"

But her passion had found vent and she was not to be stilled. Telling
him the whole story of the last twenty-four hours, she waited for the
look of comfort she evidently expected. But it did not come. His first
words showed why.

"Madame is inexorable," said he; "but Madame is but one of five. There
are three others--true men, sound men, thinking men. If they deem
me unworthy--and I have shown signs of faltering of late--Madame's
animosity or your loving weakness must not stand in the way of their
decree. It shall never be said I sanctioned the doom of other men and
shrank from my own. I would be unworthy of your love if I did, and your
love is everything to me now." She had not expected this; she had not at
all reckoned upon the stern quality in this man, forgetting that without
it he could never have held his pitiless position.

"But it is not regular; it is not according to precedent. Five rings are
required, and only four were fairly placed. As an honest man, you ought
to hesitate at injustice, and injustice you will show if you allow them
to triumph through their own deceit."

But even this failed to move him.

"I see five rings," said he, "and I see another thing. Never will I be
permitted to live even if I am coward enough to take advantage of the
loophole of escape you offer me. A man who is once seen to tremble loses
the confidence of such men as call me _chief_. I would die suddenly,
horribly and perhaps when less prepared for it than now. And you,
my darling, my imperial one! you would not escape. Besides, you have
forgotten the young man who, with such unselfishness, has lent himself
to your schemes in my favor. What could save him if I disappointed the
malignancy of Madame. No; I have destroyed others, and must submit to
the penalty incurred by murder. Kiss me, Irene, and go. I command it as
your chief."

With a low moan she gave up the struggle. Lifting her forehead to his
embrace, she bestowed upon him a look of indescribable despair, then
tottered to the door leading into the garden. As it closed upon her
departing figure, he uttered