"Very well, Vera, I wish you adieu," I said sadly, for I was completely broken-hearted at the thought of my idol's deceit, and the transparent subterfuges by which she had endeavoured to conceal her guilt. "We have been happy during the few months of our wedded life, but that is a thing of the past. Henceforth mine will be a dark, hopeless existence, while yours, I trust, may be as pleasant as it has hitherto been; for though you have dishonoured me, I love you too well, even now, to wish any calamity should ever befall you." "No, Frank, don't leave me. I could not bear it!" she shrieked, bursting into a torrent of tears. "I have told you the truth--I have, by heaven! It is my terrible misfortune that I am unable to explain who that man was, and from the same cause it has not been possible for me to acquaint you with anything relating to my past. Wait patiently for a little, and I promise you faithfully--I swear you shall know everything." She was terribly in earnest, I could see; her whole future depending upon my decision that moment. It was the secret of her life I was anxious to learn beyond anything, and I asked: "How long must I wait?" She gazed at me for a few seconds blankly, apparently making some calculation. "Three weeks. Wait till then before you condemn me--do, I implore of you!" What ingenious motive could there be in thus gaining time, I asked myself. Could it be that in three weeks' time the murderer would be safely out of the country? This seemed more than probable. I felt half inclined to demand an immediate explanation or carry out the alternative, when, on a moment's reflection, I resolved not to resort to extremes without giving her an opportunity of disproving my allegations. "Very well," I said impatiently, at last; "the matter shall rest for the present; but this day three weeks I shall be prepared--I shall expect to hear a complete explanation. Bear that in mind." As I spoke the door had opened noiselessly, and Demetrius, with an expectant expression on his good-humoured face, and a cigarette in his mouth, stood upon the threshold. Vera, who had been awaiting my reply with breathless agitation, murmured in a low, intense voice, "In three weeks you shall know all, I-- promise--you," and before I could save her she had swayed forward helplessly and fallen full length in a dead swoon. "_Ma foi_!" exclaimed Demetrius; "why, what has happened?" as he rushed forward in consternation and assisted me to lift her upon the couch. "Nothing," I replied. "A little difference of opinion between us, that's all;" and ringing the bell violently to summon the servants, I left the room without further utterance. CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. STORMS OF FATE.