BETRAYS SOME HIDDEN INTRIGUE. I fell back at Ella's words, as though I had received a blow full in the chest. "You--you are married!" I gasped. "No--not yet," was her low answer, in the same blank, mechanical voice. "Then you love another man!" I cried fiercely. "In a month's time I am to be married." "But you shall not, Ella!" I exclaimed quickly and determinedly. "You are mine. Surely I have a prior claim to you! You loved me in the old days--you surely cannot deny that!" "I do not deny it, Godfrey," she said, in that same sweet, soft voice that had so long rung in my ears. "Unfortunately I did not know that you still retained any affection for me. I made inquiries, but no one knew where you were, except that you were always abroad. For aught I knew you might already be married. Therefore, I am not altogether to blame." "Who is the man?" I asked, with a fierce jealousy rising within me. Was this fellow, whoever he might be, to rob me, after all, of my love, whom I had so fortunately rediscovered? "I regret it, but I cannot tell you his name." "Not tell me his name!" I cried. "Why not? What mystery need there be if you are to be married?" "I have promised to say nothing until we are man and wife," she answered. "You alone, Godfrey, have I told because--well, because I dare not again deceive you." "Then you still love me!" I exclaimed quickly. "Confess the truth." "What is the use of discussing affection?" she asked. "The die is cast. At the very moment when we meet again after this long separation, we find ourselves debarred from happiness. We can never become man and wife." "Why not?" "Because I must marry this man." "Must?" "Yes," she whispered hoarsely. "But you were in that position regarding Blumenthal," I remarked, much puzzled. In the darkness I could not distinguish the expression of her countenance, but from her voice I knew that she was in desperation, and that she was actually telling me a hideous truth. "Misfortune seems to follow upon me," was her somewhat enigmatical answer. "Then be frank with me, Ella. This man whom you will not name is forcing you to marry him." She was, however, silent. Either she feared to commit herself, or she was reflecting upon how much she dare tell me. I heard her breath going and coming in quick gasps, and I could distinguish that her pointed chin had sunk upon her chest in an attitude of deep dejection. "Why not tell me everything, darling?" I went on, hoping to persuade her to confess. "Remember what I am to you; remember that our lives have for so long been linked together, that ever in these years of our separation you have been mine always, in heart and soul. I have smiled upon no other woman but your own sweet self, and never once has my heart been stirred by the zephyr of love since that dark wet night when we parted in London, and I went forth into the wide grey ocean of despair. Ella, you--"