"Perhaps, perhaps, m'sieur--if he withstands the torture and persists to lie, you will then torture me? You do not see, though I see. He has planned that you should bring me here for his revenge. Therefore, he will not tell the truth! Will you torture me, m'sieur?" "My child, you are a fool. It is the truth that I am seeking. I would give you the jewels, if you needed them. But this I shall not do--permit that man to triumph over me, in one iota! Why, Marion"--his voice broke--"he once obliged me to shake hands with him!" I thrilled to hear him, for I saw he spoke the truth, and I understood at last how bitterly he had brooked the way that I had used him. I could write a sermon here on pride and vanity, if I had a mind. Good heavens! to what heights will they not drive, to what depths will they not drag their victims! But let another pen than mine essay the task. It is Homeric and beyond my powers to do it justice. Marion left the surgeon's side, and came very close to me. "Agar Hume," she murmured, "I have used you ill, but how ill I did not dream till now. As God hears me I would never have betrayed you, if I had known it could have meant, what it has meant, and means!" "Go on!" said I, "your voice is very sweet." "You loved me once," she whispered. "I did indeed." "By the memory of that love I implore you now to speak the truth and forfeit your revenge. I am only a woman, monsieur, surely my punishment is great enough in knowing that I have brought you to your death!" "I'm not dead yet, mademoiselle. You reproach yourself too soon." "But you will die!" she cried. "When it is written." She clasped her hands and gazed at me beseechingly. "I want you to look back into a night, one night," she muttered very low, "I asked what would you give me for my love, and you replied, 'all that I can!'" "Too true. I was sincere as well in what I said." "Then give to me the memory of a man!" "And you will keep the bargain, how? By worshipping that memory?" She gave a little moan. "For God's sake," she pleaded, "For God's sake, M. Hume." "For man's sake," I retorted, "I shall speak the truth," and looked beyond her. "Sir Charles," said I, "I thought myself a liar till I met this woman--and selfish too beyond comparison. Did you ever hear the maxim I invented for the ruling of my life? It was this:--'_First person paramount!_' But look at her! She dwarfs and shadows me so much, without a maxim but her womanhood, that I can only keep my dignity by noising my defeat. Here am I, bound, helpless, ill, and threatened with a painful death, because of her. But she has jewels which she sets before my agony, and she would spare herself the shame of witnessing that agony. Wherefore she tries to fool me to the end, not caring what I suffer, so that her eyes and ears are not offended." Sir Charles nodded his head, and it is very likely he believed me, for his eyes gleamed scorn at Marion. "It is your turn," he said coldly.