I was not allowed to remain long undisturbed; I heard a smart rapping at the bedroom door, and I became instantly conscious that I had a new part to play. I closed and fastened the window, and drew the curtains across it, I lowered the gas almost to vanishing point, and then, turning the key in the lock, I opened the door just wide enough to see the manager's face. "Madame is safe?" he inquired. "Quite safe," I replied. "As I said. Asleep?" "Yes, asleep." "As I said. There has been no crime or robbery?" "There has been no crime or robbery." "And madame is well?" "Quite well." "I trust you are satisfied, monsieur." "Perfectly satisfied." "Is anything more required?" "Nothing more." "No assistance of any kind? The chambermaid is here. Shall she attend to madame?" "Her assistance is not needed. Good-night." "Good-night, monsieur." As he and the attendants left the adjoining room, I heard him remark for the third time, "These eccentric English!" CHAPTER V. The first thing I did was to securely bolt and lock every door, to darken every window that gave access to our rooms. I must be alone with my shame and my grief. No one must know--the secret of this vile, this unutterable disgrace must not escape, must not be whispered, must not be suspected. From the friends who had been present at the wedding ceremony I could not expect sympathy after the way in which they had been treated; from strangers I could hope for none; by friends and strangers alike I should be pointed at and derided. I must wear a false face to all the world--as false as the face my wife had worn to me during our courtship. For in the first flush of the frightful discovery I did not stop to palter with myself, I did not attempt to disguise the truth, to delude myself with the hope that this was a new experience in Barbara's character. The fatal truth fastened itself in my heart. Signs which had borne no baneful significance in the past were now suddenly and rightfully interpreted. I understood Maxwell's mocking words and laughter: "You want hardening, my boy, and you'll get it," he had said, Again, "Barbara is not in a condition to see anybody. When she is in that state, best leave her, old fellow. There's a hint for you in your matrimonial campaign." And then his last derisive exclamation, "What a jolly wedding day!" The meaning of the looks he and Barbara had exchanged on that day when we three were together after the ceremony, was now clear to me, as clear and withering as a blasting lightning stroke. She was a drunkard, and he was keeping the joke from me. His look conveyed the threat, "Be careful, or I will betray you." Aye, betray her before she betrayed herself! The momentary defiance in her eyes died away, and she trembled in his presence.