“Who is this man, this Professor Doepkin? The first sight of him startled me, he is so like my son. Surely you have noticed it.” “Yes, I saw it from the first. He is a German who came over with Emmett Harlow.” “I must know that man. Why, it gives me pleasure only to look at him. The likeness is very striking.” Her voice sank in a smothered sob: “Oh, Frank, Frank!” Italy pressed her hand and answered huskily: “Be patient, dear. He will surely return to you.” But the sigh that breathed over her lips as she said it was torturing. She could offer comfort, but she could take none herself. “He will never come back to me--that was all a blind mistake of mine,” she thought. “Perhaps it will be Alys who will win him after all--Alys Audenreid with her fair, blonde beauty.” A sudden fear came to her, and she whispered agitatedly to Mrs. Murray: “If he ever comes back to you, dear heart, mind that you never betray to him the secret I once thoughtlessly confided to you--that I thought--that I fancied I loved him!” “Do you mean that you have changed, that Emmett has won you after all?” returned Mrs. Murray, in a reproachful undertone. “Emmett has not won me--we are only friends--but I--I made a mistake, and--I do not want Mr. Murray ever to know,” the girl faltered, and turned hastily toward Mr. Gardner, who was about to begin the reading of Percy Seabright’s entries in the diary of his murdered friend. The prisoner, who was sitting by the side of Mrs. Smith, gasped slightly once or twice, turned a shade paler, and leaned forward to listen to the reading. The lawyer’s well-trained voice rang out clearly: “The fatal deed is done. I have known for months that the goading devil within me would make me kill Ronald Vale! “Yet I shall be haunted till I die by the look in his eyes as my dagger pierced his breast, and his dying moan: ‘How could you do it, Percy?’” * * * * * A groan of execration arose from the listeners, but it was quickly hushed, and Mr. Gardner read on: “It was _her_ fault--hers and that little dark-eyed child’s. They stole his love from me. He belonged to me utterly until her blue eyes and her golden hair wiled his heart away. For years they made me wretched. To-day when he bade me leave his presence forever I swore revenge for my slighted love. “Ah! how dearly I loved him! I would have given my life for him! Alas! he had to give his for me! But now he is mine, all mine--in death he belongs to me! I did not plan to kill him--it all came suddenly on me! “I started to New York, but I came back that night for one more look at his beloved face. And while I hung around the window watching him unseen, _she_ came in--his lovely wife that I hated with such jealous hate!