_Pauline--

Six months ago I left you, promising to return and take you home my
wife; I loved you, but I deceived you; for though my heart was wholly
yours, my hand was not mine to give. This it was that haunted me through
all that blissful summer, this that marred my happiness when you owned
you loved me, and this drove me from you, hoping I could break the tie
with which I had rashly bound myself. I could not, I am married, and
there all ends. Hate me, forget me, solace your pride with the memory
that none knew your wrong, assure your peace with the knowledge that
mine is destroyed forever, and leave my punishment to remorse and time.

Gilbert_


With a gesture of wrathful contempt, Manuel flung the paper from him as
he flashed a look at his companion, muttering through his teeth,
"Traitor! Shall I kill him?"

Pauline laughed low to herself, a dreary sound, but answered with a slow
darkening of the face that gave her words an ominous significance. "Why
should you? Such revenge is brief and paltry, fit only for mock
tragedies or poor souls who have neither the will to devise nor the will
to execute a better. There are fates more terrible than death; weapons
more keen than poniards, more noiseless than pistols. Women use such,
and work out a subtler vengeance than men can conceive. Leave Gilbert to
remorse--and me."

She paused an instant, and by some strong effort banished the black