He turned abruptly and left. Beratinsky stood for a moment or so looking after him; then he burst into a fit of laughter that sounded along the empty street. Reitzei heard the laughing behind him. CHAPTER XLIV. TWICE-TOLD TALE. When the door had closed on George Brand, Natalie stood for a second or two uncertain, to collect her bewildered thoughts. She heard his footsteps growing fainter and fainter: the world seemed to sway around her; life itself to be slipping away. Then suddenly she turned, and seized her mother by both her hands. "Child, child, what is the matter?" the mother cried, terrified by the piteous eyes and white lips. "Ah, you could not have guessed," the girl said, wildly, "you could not have guessed from his manner what he has told me, could you? He is not one to say much; he is not one to complain. But he is about to lose his life, mother--to lose his life! and it is I who have led him to this; it is I who have killed him!" "Natalie," the mother exclaimed, turning rather pale, "you don't know what you are saying." "But it is true; do not you understand, mother?" the girl said, despairingly. "The Society has given him some duty to do--now, at once--and it will cost him his life. Oh, do you think he complains?--no, he is not one to complain. He says it is nothing; he has pledged himself; he will obey; and what is the value of his one single life? That is the way he talks, mother. And the parting between him and me--that is so near, so near now--what is that, when there are thousands and thousands of such every time that war is declared? I am to make light of it, mother; I am to think it is nothing at all--that he should be going away to die!" She had been talking quite wildly, almost incoherently; she had not observed that her mother had grown paler than ever; nor had she heard the half-murmured exclamation of the elder woman, "No, no--not the story twice told; he could not do that!" Then, with an unusual firmness and decision, she led her daughter to the easy-chair, and made her sit down. "Natalie," she said, in earnest and grave tones, without any excitement whatever, "you have told me your father was very much against you marrying Mr. Brand." There was no answer. The girl sitting there could only think of that terrible thing facing her in the immediate future. "Natalie," said her mother, firmly, "I wish you to listen. You said your father was opposed to your marriage--that he would not hear of it; and you remember telling me how Mr. Brand had refused to hand over his property to the Society; and you talked of going to America if Mr. Brand were sent? Natalie, this is your father's doing!" She looked up quickly, not understanding. The elder woman flushed slightly, but continued in clear and even tones.