"Never!" she reiterated. "Remember!" he said. "In that word you pronounce the doom of this lad; by that word you let fall the sword, you darken the few remaining years of an old man's life with shame!" White and breathless she sank on to the floor and so knelt--absolutely knelt--to him, with outstretched hands and imploring eyes. He looked at her, his heart beating, his lips quivering, and his hand moved toward the bell. "If I ring this it is to send for a constable. If I ring this, it is to give this lad into custody on a charge of forgery. It is impossible for him to escape, the evidence is complete and damning." His hand touched the bell, had almost pressed it, when Stella uttered a word. "Stay!" she said, and so hoarse, so unnatural was the sound of her voice, that it went to his heart like a stab. Slowly, with the movement of a person numbed and almost unconscious, she rose and came toward him. Her face was white, white to the lip, her eyes fixed not on him, but beyond him; she had every appearance of one moving in a dream. "Stay?" she said. "Do not ring." His hand fell from the bell, and he stood regarding her with eager, watchful eyes. "You--you consent?" he asked hoarsely. Without moving her eyes, she seemed to look at him. "Tell me," she said, in slow, mechanical tones, "tell me all--all that you wish me to do, all that I must do to save them." Her agony touched him, but he remained inflexible, immovable. "It is soon told," he said. "Say to me, 'Jasper, I will be your wife!' and I am content. In return, I promise that on the day, the hour in which you become my wife, I will give you this paper; upon it the boy's fate depends. Once this is destroyed he is safe--absolutely." She held out her hand mechanically. "Let me look at it." He glanced at her, scarcely suspiciously but hesitatingly, for a moment, then placed the paper in her hands. She took it, shuddering faintly. "Show me!" He put his finger on the forged name. Stella's eyes dwelt upon it with horror for a moment, then she held out the paper to him. "He--he wrote that?" "He wrote it," he answered. "It is sufficient to send him----" She put up her hand to stop him. "And--and to earn the paper I must--marry you?" He was silent, but he made a gesture of assent. She turned her head away for a moment, then she looked him full in the eyes, a strange, awful look. "I will do it," she said, every word falling like ice from her white lips. A crimson flush stained his face. "Stella! My Stella!" he cried. She put up her hand; she did not shrink back, but simply put up her hand, and it was he who shrank. "Do not touch me," she said, calmly, "or--or I will not answer for myself." He wiped the cold beads from his brow. "I--I am content!" he said. "I have your promise. I know you too well to dream that you would break it. I am content. In time--well, I will say no more." Then he went to the table and pressed the bell.