Well, gentlemen, then I learned the whole pretty story from the two of them together, to the accompaniment of self-reproaches, tears and bended knees. Years before they had met in the woods and fell in love for ever after--hopelessly and silently, as behooved the off spring of two feuding families--Montagues and Capulets. "Did you confess your love to each other?" No, but they had kissed each other. "And then?" Then he had gone on garrison duty in Berlin and they heard no more of each other. They did not dare to write, and each was uncertain of the other's affection. Then came the death of old Puetz and my attempt to bring about a reconciliation. When I appeared at Krakowitz, Iolanthe conceived the plan at first of making me a confident of her love. In fact, she hoped to receive a message through me. Nothing of the kind. Instead, I misunderstood her tender glances and played the enamoured swain myself. Then, when her father's burst of rage proved clearly that there never would be a bit of hope for her, she decided in her despair to avail herself of the one possible way of at least getting near her beloved. "Ah, but, my dear, that was really a contemptible thing for you to do." "But I longed for him so," she answered, as though that made everything right. "Very good--excellent! But you, my son, why didn't you come and say, 'Uncle, I love her, she loves me, hands off!'" "But I did not know if she still loved me." "Splendid! You are a precious pair of innocents, you two. When did you finally find out?" "To-day--while you were asleep." And now came a terrible story. After dinner, on leaving the table, a single handshake in silence showed each how miserable the other one was, and seeing no way out, they decided to die that very night. "What! You, too?" Instead of answering Iolanthe pulled out of her pocket a little bottle from which a human skull grinned at me. "What's that?" "Cyanide of potassium." "The devil! Where did you get that from?" Presented to her some years ago by a friend of hers at the dancing school, a chemist whose head she had turned. She had asked him to give her the pleasant drink. "And you were going to take that stuff, you little goose, you?" She looked at me with big glaring eyes and nodded two or three times. I understood very well, and a shudder passed down my back. A fine bridal night it might have been! "And now? What am I going to do with the two of you now?" "Save us! Help us! Have mercy on us!" They were on their knees before me, licking my hands. And because I, as you know, gentlemen, am a professional good fellow, I devised a means of bringing my failure of a marriage to a speedy end. John was ordered to hitch up, and fifteen minutes later, without any to-do, I was driving my twelve-hour bride to Gorowen to my sister, under whose protection she was to remain until the divorce had been decreed--under no circumstances would she return to her father's house.