‘Your judgment is harsh, _chérie_, but I have without doubt deserved it--that being so, I bear it with patience. I say to you that I lied to you before; therefore I must not expect you to believe me now. Before I could not prove the truth of my statement, but that is all changed at last!’ Again he produced his slip of paper; this time he held it out before Madeline’s eyes. In a dazed, troubled way she looked at it. She saw at a glance that it was the certificate, real or forged, of the marriage between Auguste Belleisle and Madeline Hazel mere. Therefore she completely lost her self control, and did what, under the circumstances, it was most injudicious that she should do--she allowed the Frenchman to see that she was afraid. ‘I will not--I cannot--believe it,’ she cried. ‘If it is so, why did you tell me that wicked falsehood, when I did not know you well enough to doubt your word?’ ‘I will tell you, dearest. When I induced you to fly with me from the school I was poor--miserably poor, and I believed I was eloping with a lady who would become possessed of a fortune when she was of age. Ah! forgive me, but I was wicked, corrupt! Then I said to myself, “She is a charming girl; she will become the victim of fortune-hunters; she evidently adores me, and I care for her; the fortune must be mine!” Afterwards you repented of your mad folly. I knew you did so too late--in spite of your wishes I married you. Shortly after our marriage you yourself informed me, _chérie_, that you were poor. I felt that I had been befooled, and I grew enraged. Still, as I could not easily rid myself of my wife, I resolved to make her useful. I did so. You fell into my plans until you discovered them; then you showed temper, and threatened to become dangerous. I wondered for a second time what I should do with you. I determined to try a bold stroke, and succeed or fail. I succeeded. I told you a lie, _mon ange_, and in your charming innocence you believed it to be the truth. You asked for no proofs, which was lucky for me, since I could produce none. You believed that you had been my mistress. I knew that you were bound to me by a nearer and a dearer tie.’ He paused and looked at her. Her face was ghastly, her eyes wildly fixed; she shivered through all her frame. ‘Madame, you are not well.’ Again she shrank away. He smiled and nodded.