At that moment the officers who had approached ordered me to halt, and proceeded to question me as to whom I had been speaking with. I admitted that the man was a stranger, and that I had allowed him to pass out of the city. Thus all was discovered, and I was at once arrested as a traitor--as one who had rendered assistance to a Prussian spy! The penalty was death. The stern, grey-haired general before whom I was taken half an hour later pronounced sentence; and, without ceremony, I was hurried off to execution. Bah! Fate has always been unkind to me. It would have been better had I fallen with four of my comrades' bullets in my breast, than that I should have continued to drag out an existence till to-day. But the bombardment had recommenced vigorously; and as I was being led along, a shell fell close to my escort, and, bursting, killed two of the poor fellows, and demoralised the rest. I saw my chance, and darted away. A moment later, I was lost among the trees. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Three hours later. Breathlessly I mounted the long flights of stairs that led to my home, and opened the door with my key. Entering our little salon, I looked around. In the cold, grey light of dawn, the place looked unutterably cheerless, and the thunder of the guns was causing the windows to rattle. Passing quickly into the bedroom, I found the ceiling open to the sky, and a huge gap in the wall. A shell had fallen, and completely wrecked it. "Rose!" I cried. "Rose, I have returned." There was no response. Another roar like the roll of thunder, and the whole place vibrated, as though an earthquake had occurred. Where was Rose? I dashed back into the salon, and there, upon a table, I found a letter addressed to me in her familiar hand. Tearing it open, I read eagerly the three brief lines it contained, then staggered back, as if I had received a blow. A second later, I felt conscious of the presence of some one at my elbow; and, turning, found Mariette, our maid-of-all-work. "My wife--where is my wife?" I gasped. "Madame has gone, m'sieur," the girl replied in her Gascon accent. "Last night a man called for her, and she went out, leaving a note for you." "A man?" I cried. "Describe him. What was he like?" "I only caught one glimpse of him, m'sieur. He was fair, and had a long red scar across his cheek." "_A scar_?" I shrieked in dismay, as the terrible truth dawned suddenly upon me. Rose, whom I had first met in Cologne, when a student on the Rhine-bank, had told me that I was not her first love; and now I remembered that she had long ago been acquainted with my fellow-student, Paul Olbrich. It was my own wife whom I had assisted to elope with my enemy!