As I turned to look at Vera she covered her blanched face with her hands, screaming,--"Look, Frank--he has a pistol!" His movements were of lightning-like rapidity. Before I could wrest the weapon from his murderous grasp he had levelled it at her. There was a flash--a loud report--and a puff of smoke curled between us. For a second I feared to glance at her, but when I lifted my eyes, it was with joy I saw that the bullet had sped harmlessly past, shattering a great mirror at the opposite end of the room. Shrieking wildly and hysterically, she staggered fainting to a chair, while Boris and I struggled with the murderer to obtain possession of the weapon. "Stand back!" he shouted, his dark flashing eyes starting from their sockets, and his even row of white teeth prominently displayed. "Touch me, and I'll blow your brains out! _Sacre_! I warn you!" The mad excitement seemed to have filled him with fiendish strength, and by an agile movement he again freed himself. With a muttered oath he advanced several steps towards the spot where Vera was sitting, now rendered utterly unconscious by the sudden shock. I saw his intention. I detected the terrible expression of revenge that passed over his features; and sprang towards him. Another second, and I should have been too late. The muzzle of the revolver was again pointed at her; his finger was upon the trigger, nevertheless as he pulled it I knocked his arm upwards. The weapon discharged, but the bullet imbedded itself in the ceiling. I had saved Vera's life! At this moment there were loud shouts in the corridor, and a few seconds later a police inspector, accompanied by two detectives and several waiters, dashed into the room. "Demetrius Orselska, we have a warrant for your arrest for murder!" announced the officer, sharply, and turning to his men, added, "arrest him?" Like some hunted animal who is brought to bay, the scoundrel glanced quickly around for means of escape, but finding none, turned and faced them. A moment's reflection had decided him. "You--you shall not take me," he hissed. "I--I confess I am guilty of the crimes--but--_Diable_! I will take my own life, and--and you can take my body if it's any use--you can can do what you like with that, you bloodhounds!" Before the detectives could obey the orders of the inspector, he had placed the revolver to his forehead. The plated barrel flashed in the light only for an instant--then there was a loud explosion. The officers recoiled, startled by its suddenness; for it all took place so rapidly that for the moment they apparently did not comprehend his intention. As the pistol fell from the unhappy man's grasp he uttered a loud moan, staggered, and then wheeled slowly round, as if on a pivot. His bloodshot eyes caught sight of Boris, and frightful convulsions of every feature proclaimed his terror. He did not utter another cry but fell forward to the floor where he quivered for a few moments in death agony.