“Well, considering she has sent for you, I suppose she means to tell you herself,” said Castleton. “And,” reluctantly, “it is well you should know beforehand what there is to know, though I am surprised that she has not already told you.” To him there was but one certainty, and that was that Fenella had betrayed to Onslow the part he took in the fatal night’s work that murdered De Mürger. Probably Onslow had resented what she told him, and disbelieved it, and she had then sent for her lawyer. What else could demand so imperative a telegram? On the instant he opened his heart to Jacynth, and told him all his belief, all his doubts. “I could never forget,” said he, “how he looked in the last hypnotic fit, and hypnotic is the fashionable word for it, I know, but I call it madness. And his heart isn’t sound, you know. He inherits disease in that direction. His father died of aneurism of the heart. Some day he will have a fashionable fit too strong for him, and there will be an end.” “The best thing that could happen for both of them,” said Jacynth deliberately. He had been terribly upset by Castleton’s revelation, and though hardly permitting himself to believe in it, still felt a wild, mad joy in the thought that she--_she_, the only woman the whole wide world contained for him--might be innocent of bloodshed after all. “See here,” said he vehemently, “if this thing be true, if she saw him commit that crime--for crime it was--do you think they could ever live happily together in the future? Why, think, man, would she not see the color of blood upon his hands, would she fail to rank him among murderers? And he----” “Why, he knows nothing.” “True; and therein lies the real tragedy. Knowing nothing, he thinks of _her_ as a murderess. There it lies, you see, in a nutshell. _He_ thinks _her_, _she_ thinks _him_ guilty of a ghastly crime, and you madly believe they could live together happily.” “It need not go on like that; she might tell him the truth.” “She? Never!” “At all events, he might learn it.” “And if so, what would be gained? The world would shun them both; and they were made for the world. We are all made for the world.” “True.” A shrill whistle aroused them both. “Come on, the train is about to start,” said Castleton. * * * * * As Jacynth entered her sitting room, Fenella rose and ran toward him. “At last, at last!” she said. The words came in a sort of gasp. Jacynth, holding her hands, stared at her, shocked at the change in her appearance. Every vestige of color was gone from her face, her eyes looked wild, and her parted lips were very pale. She had pushed back her hair from her forehead with a quick gesture, just as he entered the room. She was at her worst this moment, but the man’s love was so strong that he failed to see that. He thought her lovely--lovely always, and what was strange, even younger than she used to be. “You know, you have heard,” she went on, her tone feverish.