The Pulaskian., 1916-10-20
CHAPTER xx-continued.

Madame AfHdu0-nOL to JuQge.
 And if I promise you-if I tell you that I will do all that lies in my power"
 ''Then my errand is accomplished. !"
 Sylvia's hands dropped. 1t struck her that this woman had a mean soul. coarsened with rough contact with the world. She could not rise to the high attitudes of forgiveness and reconeili- alton. She could only grasp the ma terial things of life. Sylvia caught glance of her own reflection in the glass opposite, and she saw how ethe- real her owp beauty had become. After all, beauty is the outward and visible sign. Suddenly her name was called roughly yet piteously-and her eyes sank.
 That's my husband,' she said gravely. "Even in his delirium he is always calling for me. The dying are sacred, are they not? We must for give them as we forgive the dead"
 "Yes," Gabrielle assented.
 'I must go to him. But I will do what have promised. I-I will atone for him. Perhaps it may soothe him comfort him to think that the wrong he has done has been righted-don't you think?''
 Perhaps"
 But Gabrielle Smith did not seem to see the extended hand. There was hard line about the fine mouth. and without greeting-almest as though goaded by an impatient contempt-she went out of the open French windows into the brazen glare of the afternoon. Sylvia Arnaud watched the slight up right figure vanish into the archway beyond the courtyard. She was vague ly disconcerted-like an actress left suddenly without her cue-and be- heath the tranquil consciousness of vir- tue there stirred the old hatred, the old mistrust
 In the sickroom all was still again. The blinds were drawn, and in the green-tinted shadows Desires face showed like a white light She went softly over to his bedside and sat down. looking at him. His eyes were closed and he appeared to sleep. A cold wonder crept over her. He had changed so completely in those few months of their married life that the change ceased to be terrible. This was not the man whose leeting, un- known fascination had caught her rest less fancy-not even the man she had grown weary of. He was nothing-a mere husk of something that had once been. Still, as she sat there and looked back on those months, many things became triumphantly clear to her. She understood why she had grown weary, and why weariness had changed to nausea. He was bad man. He had sinned; he had let another suffer for him, and had pursued his victim with relentless hatred Her woman's in- stinct had recognized the evil and had passed judgment. Beside him Rich ard Farquhars figure gleamed in the limelight of her imagination-a cheva- Her of the old school, quixotic and romantic. But she did not love him. Perhaps there was even somewhere in her a vague contempt-at least, slightly patronizing pity strengthened by the knowledge that now his saliva tion was in her hands. Her thoughts passed on from him to the implacable, ruthless man who had come back to her out of the jaws of death and to whom she was going with the sur render of her whole self. And as she thought of him invisible hands tore down the veil, and she saw the pic ture that he had painted of her-saW it and shrank from it even though she knew that it was the insignia of his power
 Desires eyes opened. They. rested full on her face, and in their recogn1- tion, their pathetic, helpless worship she regained herself and the heights Of her virtue. She bent over him.
 Are you better, DesireY
 Sylvia His hand groped feebly for hers She touched it kindly. She would not reproach him. She was for giving him. He was going to die. And then she would be free. She did not think of her freedom. It was like hidden pulse-beating persistently, feverishly.
 q heard you call," she said. '1s there anything want? The nurse will be back in moment"
 He caressed her hand with an 1n- finite tenderness.
 They are going to shoot him at daybreak," he said very gently And then all will be well, will it not? You will forget him. You will learn to understand everything. We shall be- gin new life together in a new world, my wife. There will be no shadow between us where we are going
 She shrank from him. half in horror, half in vague fear. He was dying and he seemed so sure He did not ask for forgiveness; there was no re morse in his sunken eyes-rather grave, serene pity. His hand sflll held hers. There was power in It's