e made a good fight. By God, you
have fought well! But you are done for. I offer you terms."

"What terms?" I asked.

"The same as before."

"You planned to murder me," I answered, but with no bitterness.

"Yes, that is true," answered Leroux. "But circumstances were
different then from what they are tonight. I am no murderer. I am a
man of business. And, within business limits, I keep my word. If I
proposed to break it, it was because I had no other way. Besides, you
had me in your power. Now you are in mine.

"I thought then that you were in Carson's pay. That if I let you go
you would betray--certain things you might have discovered. But you
came here because you were infatuated with Mme. d'Epernay. Well, I can
afford to let you go; for, though my instincts cry out loudly for your
death, I am a business man, and I can suppress them when it has to be
done. In brief, M. Hewlett, you can go when you choose."

"M. Leroux," I answered, "I will say something to you for your own
sake, and Mme. d'Epernay's, that I would not deign to say to any other
man. She is as pure as the best woman in the land. I found her
wandering in the street. I saved her from the assault of your hired
ruffians. I tried to procure a room for her at the Merrimac, and when
they refused her, I gave up my own apartment to her and went away."

"But you went back!" he cried. "You went back, Hewlett!"

"I can tell you no more," I answered. "Do you believe what I have said
to you?"

He looked hard into my face.

"Yes," he said simply. "And it makes all the difference in the world
to me."

And at that moment, in spite of all, I felt something that was not far
from affection toward the man.

"Pere Antoine will marry you?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"And her father?"

"Is safe in the _chateau_, playing with his wheel and amassing a
fortune in his dreams."

"One word more," I continued. "Mme. d'Epernay is very ill. She was
struck by one of those bullets that you fired through the door. Wait!"
for he had started. "I think that she will live. The wound cannot
have pierced a vital part. But we must be very gentle in moving her.
You had better bring the sleigh here, and you and I will lift her into
it. And then--I shall not see her again."

CHAPTER XXIII

LEROUX'S DIABLE

I went back toward the cave. But I could not bring myself to see
Jacqueline.

Instead, I paced the tunnel to and fro, wondering wh