In the whirl of that unhappy woman's senses the words seemed to come from afar off; the lights were dancing before her eyes; the flashing gems blinded her with their rays, but she still controlled herself. She must make one last effort--she must discover how much of the truth he knew--there might be some loophole for escape--some effort by which she could avert a little longer the coming earthquake. "Why don't you speak?" he cried. "Say anything--another lie if you will--anything rather than this black truth! That man; you know him! Speak, I say!" "What man?" she faltered. "That traitor--that wretch! He had the bracelet; he got it from you! Explain, I say--woman, I will have an explanation." "I never gave the bracelet away," she said, desperately. "I have no explanation to make. I will not open my lips while you stand over me in that threatening way." "Will you defy me to the last?" he exclaimed. "You can only kill me," she moaned; "do it and let me have peace!" He flung the bracelet down upon the table. "I have loved you, and I know that you are false!" "What do you suspect?" she demanded. "What do you know?" The momentary weakness of passion passed; the husband stood up again cold and stern. "I know," he said, "that this bracelet was in the hands of a bad, wicked man; only yesterday he took it from the pawnbroker's, and now I find it in your possession." There was a hope; only in another deception; but she must save herself; while there was a thread to grasp at, she could not allow herself to be swept down the gathering storm. "And is there no possibility that I may be innocent in all this?" she exclaimed. "If I receive an anonymous letter, telling me I can find my bracelet by paying a certain reward, is it not natural that I should go? Knowing your strange disposition, is it not equally natural that I should keep the whole thing a secret, and strive to make every one believe that the bracelet had been mislaid." "Is this true?" he cried. "Can you prove to me that you speak the truth?" She was not looking at him; the apathy of despair which came over her seemed like sullen obstinacy. "I can prove nothing," she said; "if it were possible I would not make the effort. Do what you like; believe what you please; I will defend myself no more." CHAPTER L. IN THE TEMPEST. Mellen turned away, and walked up and down the room in silence. There was a fearful struggle in his mind; the love he still felt for his wife was contending against horrible doubts, and almost threatening his reason. He could not decide what to think or how to act! For the moment at least he was glad to grasp at any pretext which might prove a settlement to the question, whatever his thoughts and belief might be on after reflection.