"Who has greater right to curtail her sufferings than her husband?" "And who has greater right to endeavour to save her life?" "But you cannot. It is impossible." "Why impossible?" "She is doomed." "By you. You have resolved that she shall not live till morning," I said, adding: "If, as you tell me, her mysterious illness must prove fatal, I see no reason why you should offer me a bribe to encompass her death. Surely a few hours more or less are of no consequence." "But they are," he protested quickly. "She must die before sundown, I tell you." "Not if I can prevent it." "Then you will forgo the money I have offered you," he inquired seriously. "I have no intention of touching a single farthing of it." "Until you are forced to." "Forced to!" I exclaimed. "I don't understand your meaning." "You will understand one day," he answered with a grin--"one day when it may, perhaps, be too late. It would be best for us to act in unison, I assure you." "For you, possibly; not for me." "No--for you," he said, fixing his crafty, evil-looking eyes upon me. "You have taken one step towards the goal, and you cannot now draw back. You have already accepted your price--twenty thousand pounds." "Enough!" I cried indignantly. "If I were to give information to the police regarding this conversation, you would find yourself arrested within an hour." "As I have already told you, my dear sir, I am not at all afraid of such a contretemps; I am no blunderer, I assure you." "Neither am I," I answered quickly, resolving to remain there no longer discussing such a subject. From the first moment of our meeting I had entertained a suspicion of him. Several facts were evident. He had some strong motive, first in marrying his daughter Beryl, secondly in encompassing her death before sundown, and thirdly in implicating me so deeply that I should be unable to extricate myself from the net which he set to entrap me. A fourth fact, apparently small in itself, had caused me considerable reflection: the hand that I had held and on the finger of which I had placed the bond of matrimony, was in no sense chilly or clammy. It was not the wasted hand of a moribund invalid, but rather that of a healthy person. While I had held it I felt and counted the pulsations. The latter had told me that my mysterious bride was without fever, and was apparently in a normal state of health. It was curious that she should have walked and acted involuntarily, if only half conscious of her surroundings. The Tempter was endeavouring to deceive me in this particular. But it was in vain. "Cannot we come to terms?" he asked in a low, earnest voice. "There is surely no object to be gained in our being enemies; rather let us act together in our mutual interests. Recollect that by your marriage you have become my son-in-law and heir."