The name which she signed with mine was "Beryl Wynd"; beyond that I knew nothing. Utterly bewildered at my position, I sat beside my bride on the drive back, but she preserved silence, and I exchanged no word with her. She shuddered once, as though cold. Her father accompanied us, keeping up a lively conversation during the whole distance. Arrived at the house, the woman who had sought me at Rowan Road came forward to meet my bride, and at once accompanied her upstairs, while we entered the dining-room. The two witnesses, who had followed in the second carriage, quickly joined us. The butler Davies opened champagne, and my health, with that of the bride, was drunk in solemn silence. The man with the monocle was absent. Truly my nuptial feast was a strange one. A few minutes later, however, I was again alone in the library with the Tempter, whose eyes had grown brighter, and whose face had assumed an even more demoniacal expression. The door was closed, the silence unbroken. "So far all has been perfectly satisfactory," he said, halting upon the hearthrug suddenly and facing me. "There is, however, still one condition to be fulfilled, before I place the money in your hands." "And what is that?" I inquired. "That your wife must die before sunset," he answered, in a hoarse, earnest whisper. "She must die--you understand! It is now half-past twelve." "What?" I cried, starting forward. "You would bribe me to murder your own daughter?" He shrugged his thin shoulders, made an impatient movement, his small eyes glittered, and in a cold hard voice, he exclaimed-- "I said that it is imperative she should die before the money is yours-- that is all." CHAPTER THREE. CONCERNING A COMPACT. "Then you make murder one of the conditions of payment?" I said, facing him. "I have only said she must die before sunset," he answered. "She cannot live, in any case, longer than a few hours. It is easy for you, a doctor, to render her agony brief." "To speak plainly," I said, with rising indignation, "you wish me to kill her! You offer me twenty thousand pounds, not for marriage, but for the committal of the capital sin." His thin lips twitched nervously and his brows contracted. "Ah!" he responded, still quite cool. "I think you view the matter in a wrong light. There are various grades of murder. Surely it is no great crime, but rather a humane action, to put a dying girl out of her agony." "To shorten her life a single minute would be a foul assassination," I replied, regarding him with loathing. "And further, sir, you do not appear to fully realise your own position, or that it is a penal offence to attempt to bribe a person to take another's life." He laughed a short, defiant laugh.