The shivering of glass as the little crystal fell from Horace North's hand, and a pungent odour filled the room. "Mary Salis! or am I mad indeed?" ejaculated the wretched man. He stood motionless, staring at the window as a white arm was forced through the broken glass, and the catch thrust back, but not so quickly but that a deep red stain had time to show; for the jagged glass made an ugly gash above the white wrist, though it was unheeded, and the casement was flung open. "The door--open that door!" North did not stir, but stood gazing wildly at the pallid face before him, and then he passed his hands across his eyes and tottered to the window, as if drawn there by the eyes which gazed into his. "Quick! the door--open this door!" was panted forth. He obeyed mechanically without taking his eyes from the window, feeling his way to the door, and slowly opening it, to stand gazing at Mary Salis, as she caught his hands in hers. "What were you going to do?" she cried piteously. "You, too, of all men! You must be mad--you must be mad!" "Yes," he said vacantly; "they say so. I must be mad, or is--is it past--a dream? Mary Salis--you!" "What's that?" cried Mary excitedly, as the sound of the breaking door was heard. North uttered a sigh. "They are coming," he cried, "and I shall be too late. Loose my arm-- loose my arm!" "No, no, no!" panted Mary, as she flung herself upon his breast. "It is what I feared; I believed it, and I came. Oh, for pity's sake, don't do that!" "Yes: I must. You do not know," he whispered hoarsely, as he tried to unlace her arms from about him. "Yes, I know that you were about to commit self-murder, and you shall not do this thing," cried Mary wildly. "Would you see me dragged away to a living death?" he said. "Listen--do you not hear? Loose me, I say!" He spoke almost savagely now, as he struggled to get the enlacing hands away; but, as he tore at them, Mary clung the closer, drawing herself more tightly to his breast as her face approached his, and her lips parted, her eyes dilated, and she cried as wildly: "Then kill me too!" He ceased struggling to look at the flushed, love-illumined face that approached his, unable to grasp the whole meaning of what was said, mentally incapable of interpreting the words and looks, the whole scene being like the phantasm of some delirious fit. A louder crack of the baize door aroused him, and he started away. "Don't you hear?" he whispered. "Don't you hear?" "Yes," cried Mary, still clinging to him; "I hear, and it is help." "No, no!" he whispered; "it is those men. Ah, I am too late!" For at that moment there was a sharp rustling of the bushes, and a man ran up over the lawn, to pause bewildered at the scene before him. "You, miss--here?" he panted breathlessly. "Old Missus Milt said as the maddus folk was taking the doctor away." "What?" cried Mary; and a mist floated before her eyes.