“Ask me no more questions, Cecil, for I have cruel news for you--news I would far sooner die than tell you.” He cried out in alarm: “Violet is not ill--not dead! Speak quickly, Amber!” The girl answered with consummate, tragic force: “She were better dead than false!” “Oh, Heaven!” he gasped, hollowly. “False!” repeated Amber, most bitterly, and went on: “Oh, Cecil, I tried to prevent it; I told her you would come; I begged them to wait, but----” “Go on!” he implored, and she continued, sadly: “Oh, Cecil, call all your strength and pride to your aid, for it is cruel news I have for you. Violet was bitterly resentful at your delay. She wept wildly, hysterically, and raved out that she was a forsaken bride, jilted at the very altar.” “My poor Violet, my sensitive little love,” he groaned; but Amber went on: “While she was raving in her anguish, Harold Castello suddenly entered the chapel. He had suspected the elopement and followed us.” “The serpent!” Cecil cried, angrily, and she murmured: “You may well say so, for no arrival was ever more fatally inopportune. Of course he was delighted at what looked like deliberate skulking and perfidy on your part. He made the most of it, and boldly offered to take your place with Violet.” Some sounds of inarticulate fury came from Cecil’s lips, and she smiled to herself as she went on stabbing his heart: “Oh, Cecil, forgive me that it is my cruel task to bring you this news! She listened to him, poor Violet--she was always weak, and vain, and childish--and he made her believe that you would never come, that she was really jilted. She was wild with resentment, she would not listen to me. Before I could realize it, they turned to the preacher. He married them, and they sprang into his carriage and drove away.” CHAPTER XXIII. OH! THE TORTURING AGONY OF LOVE BETRAYED! Amber’s deep-laid scheme had succeeded beyond her wildest hopes. Every detail had been carried out, with one exception. She had hoped ardently to secure the opal ring, and to give it to Cecil at this moment, saying, cruelly: “Violet tore this ring from her finger in scorn, saying: ‘Give this to Cecil Grant, and tell him I despise him, and am glad I have escaped a life of poverty as his wife!’” Violet had clung so faithfully to the ring that this master-stroke was not possible to Amber, but, after all, it was not necessary, for Cecil did not dream of doubting her plausible statements. But oh, the torturing agony of love betrayed! The anguish of loss and despair! the burning jealousy that filled his soul at Amber’s disclosures, no words could tell! She had craved revenge upon Cecil Grant, because he had turned from her dazzling charms, to sun himself in the tender light of Violet’s dark-blue eyes. She had full measure of revenge now in the deadly blow she had struck at his loving heart.