"Yes," he said in a low voice, his chin still upon his breast. "I am guilty, and must suffer. But," he added, raising his head slowly until his eyes met hers, "promise me one thing, Claudia--promise that after to-day you will give no further thought to me. I have deceived you, and am unworthy; put me out of your mind for ever." "But you loved me, Dudley," she cried with a mournful tenderness. "How can I allow your memory to pass from me when for so many years you have been my all in all?" "In the future we must be parted," he answered huskily. "From the consequences of my crime there is no escape--none. But if I thought that you had forgotten the grave wrong I have done you, my mind would at least be easier." She did not answer for a few moments. Then, with the passion begotten of a changeless and profound affection she rushed towards him, threw her arms about his neck, and cried out: "No, Dudley, you are mine--mine! we must not part. I love you--you know that I do! You shall not leave me--you hear! _you shall not_!" "But I must," he replied gravely, a hardness appearing at the corners of his mouth as he slowly disengaged himself from her embrace. "I have given my word of honour to return to my chambers before midday." "To whom?" "To Archibald Cator. The man who, in the exercise of his profession as chief of our Secret Service, has discovered my secret." Chisholm, whatever might have been his follies in the past, was now a man of unflinching principle. He had given his word not to attempt to escape. "Then I will go with you," she said with resolution. "It is half-past eleven, and my carriage is outside. We will drive down to St. James's Street together." But in all earnestness he begged her not to accompany him. He did not desire that she should be a witness of his degradation and arrest. He could not bear the thought. He knew that the matter would be placed before Lord Stockbridge himself, and that, in company with Cator, he would be called into the presence of the grave-eyed Chief in whose confidence and regard he had for long held so high a place. "I shall go with you," she said decisively, now calm and composed after her agitation and flood of tears. She had braced herself up with what was, under the circumstances, a remarkable effort. By way of explanation she added, half breathlessly: "I love you, Dudley, and my place in the hour of trial is at your side." He raised her bejewelled hand tremblingly to his lips, and thanked her in a husky voice. He, the Discrowned, dared not kiss her lips. "Patience and courage," she said, laying her hand upon his shoulder tenderly, just as she had been wont to do in those early days of his career when she had so often given him advice. He shook his head sadly before answering. "Both are unavailing against the vengeance of Heaven!"