some rift a beam of melancholy light crept in; a smell
of death hung in the thick, unclean air.

Selo pointed to a stone altar. "It was there they killed their
victims," he whispered, and began to pray anxiously, half-aloud. When
he had finished, he hurried back, beckoning to her to come out.

"Go," she said. "I will stay here."

"Then I will wait outside. This is no place for Christian souls. But
we must return soon, madame. My little girl will be watching now for
me."

When he was gone she stood by the altar. This island of Gavr' Inis was
one of the places to which she and George had long ago planned to come.
She remembered the very day on which they had read the legend that on
this altar men before the Flood had sacrificed to the god of Murder.

"I am the murderer now, and George knows it," she said quietly. But
she was cold and faint, and presently began to tremble weakly.

She went out of the cave and stood on the beach. "I want to go home,
George," she said aloud. "I want to be Frances Waldeaux again. I'm
sure I didn't know it was in me to do that thing."

There was no answer. She was alone in the great space of sky and sea.
The world was so big and empty, and she alone and degraded in it!

"I never shall see George again. He will think of me only as the woman
who killed his wife," she thought.

She went on blindly toward the water, and stood there a long time.

Then, in the strait of her agony, there came to Frances Waldeaux, for
the first time in her life, a perception that there was help for her in
the world, outside of her own strength. Her poor tortured wits
discerned One, more real than her crime, or George, or the woman that
she had killed. It was an old, hackneyed story, that He knew every man
and woman in the world, that He could help them. She had heard it
often.

Was there any thing in it? Could He help her?

Slowly, the nervous twitching of her body quieted, her dulled eyes
cleared as if a new power of sight were coming to them.

After a long time she heard steps, and Selo calling. She rose.

The murder was known. They were coming to arrest her.

What did it matter? She had found help.

Selo came up excitedly.

"It is another boat, English folk also, that comes to arrive."

She turned and waited.

And then, coming up the hill, she saw George, and with him--Lisa!
Lisa, smiling as she talked.

They ran to meet her with cries of amazement. She staggered back on