"Think of the consequences of our being found locked in here." "Bah! no one will come now till after eleven, and if they did I don't care. Look here," he cried, clasping her to his breast again, "suppose this Arabian Night sort of fortune were found, do you think I am blind? You would marry this Capel." "Well?" "I won't have it," he cried. "Why not?" she whispered, and her creamy arms clasped about his neck. "We are so poor, Gerard, and we must have money to live." "Yes, but at that cost," he cried, passionately. "Well, what then? Think! Over a million, which you should share. Gerard--dearest--you will not be so foolish, when I am so near this gigantic prize. He is my complete slave. I can do with him just what I will." "But--Kate--I believe you would--" He did not achieve his sentence, but responded passionately to her caresses till he felt her suddenly grow rigid in his arms, and then one arm was snatched from his neck, and, with her hand, she struck him sharply across the face. "How dare you!" she cried. Gerard Artis let his hands fall to his side, and Katrine darted to a tall figure in evening dress standing just inside the door, and flung herself at his knees. "Save me!" she half shrieked, "from the insults of this man." Paul Capel drew himself aside, and Katrine fell prostrate on the thick carpet, as he gravely opened the door. The girl sprang to her feet and darted out of the room, while Capel, after watching her for a moment or two, closed the door, turned the bolt, and then threw his crush hat upon a table, his black wrapper over a chair, and tore off his white gloves, changing the ivory-handled malacca cane from hand to hand as he did so. "Home soon," said Artis, with a sneer, as he slowly walked to the little table, poured out some more brandy, and gulped it down. "Yes," replied Capel, gravely. "Thank Heaven I did come home soon. I came to spend an hour alone with the woman I loved." "And you were forestalled," cried Artis. "Here, what are you going to do?" "Thrash a contemptible scoundrel within an inch of his life," cried Capel; and he made a grasp at Artis's arm. But the latter eluded him, bounded to the fire-place, and picked up the bright poker. "Keep off," he cried, "or I'll murder you." _Cling! Jingle_! He had struck the glass lustres of the great chandelier, and the fragments fell tinkling down. _Crack_! A yell of pain! A dull thud!