“His words fanned the flame of my jealous passion to madness. Hitherto I had spoken mechanically, remembering my wife’s purity and sweetness; but at his taunts the blood in my veins became like fire. I wanted nothing but revenge. “Everest tried to calm me, but it was useless; he had set the match to a train that would not be extinguished. “The remainder of that night is like a hideous nightmare to me. I can see myself now hurrying him from the steps to the street and into a cab. I can remember how sharp was the pain at my heart when I repeated the vague, yet self-condemning words of Conway’s note. I can see again the houses seeming to fly past us as we dashed homeward. I can feel again the agony I endured when, in answer to my hoarse inquiry, the maid said my wife was not at home. Again I can feel the agony of suspense, rage, madness I suffered as I strode up and down the road before the house, with Everest standing a little way off, watching me with a calm, anxious face, till the sound of light feet came to our ears, and I stood before Gladys. “I can see her pale, startled face, her shrinking form, as in a suppressed voice I demanded to know where she had been. She did not answer at once, and her hesitation maddened me. I lost all manliness, Stuart. It haunts me now--the misery of her face, the pleading of her lips. But I would listen to nothing. In a flood of passionate words I denounced her, thrust aside her hands when they would have held me, and then, telling her we should never meet again, I rushed away, leaving her dumb and pallid as a figure of stone. “Once I turned to go to her--a moment of remorse in my madness--but Everest pushed me on, and so we parted. Everest never left me all night; he took me to his rooms, and sat watching me like a mother, with his grave face and strange, earnest eyes. I was waiting only for the morning; then I started for Paris--for Conway and revenge! “Gladys I would never see again. I left my money and the settlement of my affairs in Everest’s hands in case of my death, and he promised me to look after Gladys; for, though I deemed her dishonored, I could not let her starve. He was anxious to stay in England, but I kept him beside me and refused to let him go. “I crossed to Paris the next day, and sought everywhere for Conway, but could not find him. Everest grew impatient, but still I would not release him; and two days passed without incident. On the third day I learned that Conway had never left England, that he was seized with sudden and severe illness at Dover; and, when I reached that place he was dead. “Robbed of my revenge, I sunk into gloomy despondency. Everest went to London to look after my wife. My body seemed paralyzed; I seemed no longer a man. My friend was away a week, and then returned suddenly and told me, with a strange, pale face, that Gladys was gone--had disappeared with her child, and could not be found.