Then we passed out, and in silence threaded our way back through the narrow alleys until we gained the Walworth Road, where we parted, after I had promised to call soon and see him again. When he had left me, I turned once to look after him. His tall, athletic figure was disappearing in the darkness of the slums. Truly this man, who had been my old college chum, was a devoted servant of the Master. Several days went by, during which I reflected a good deal upon the strange occurrence at St Peter's, and the promise made me by Aline. Would Muriel return to me? Was the influence possessed by the Woman of Evil sufficient to cause her to abandon her newly-found lover and crave my forgiveness? She had told me to possess myself in patience, and I, in obedience to her command, neither sought Muriel or wrote to her. A week passed. It was Saturday evening. I had been dining early over at the club, and on entering my chambers with my latch-key about eight o'clock, having returned there before dropping in at the Alhambra, I perceived through the crack of the half-open door that some one was in my sitting-room. I held my breath, scarcely believing my eyes. It was Muriel. Slowly she rose to meet me with a majestic but rather tragic air, and without a word stretched forth her hand. "Why, Muriel!" I cried gladly. "You're the very last person I expected!" "I suppose so," she said, adding in a low, strained voice, "Close the door. I have come to speak with you." I obeyed her; then, returning to her side, stood eager for her words. The enigmatical influence of Aline was upon her, for I saw that to her dark, brilliant eyes there had already returned that love-light which once had shone upon me, and noticed how her sweet, well-remembered voice trembled with an excitement which she strove vainly to conceal. Her dress was of grey stuff, plainly made as always, but her black hat with a touch of blue in it suited her well, and as she sat before me in the chair wherein the mysterious Temptress had sat, she seemed extremely graceful and more handsome than ever. "You have, I suppose, almost forgotten me during this long separation, haven't you?" she faltered with abruptness, after some hesitation. Apparently she had carefully prepared some little diplomatic speech, but in the excitement of the moment all recollection of it had passed from her mind. "Forgotten you, Muriel!" I echoed, gazing earnestly into her soft, beautiful eyes. "When we last met, did I not tell you that I should never forget?" Her breast heaved and fell; her countenance grew troubled. "Surely it is you who have forgotten me?" I said, with a touch of bitter reproach. "You have cast me aside in preference for another. Tell me what I have done that you should treat me thus?" "Nothing!" she responded nervously, her grave eyes downcast. "Then, why cannot you love me, Muriel?" I demanded, bending towards her in desperation.