"If you do not save Leopold, I will kill myself," she cried, "and my blood will be on your head." "The only way to save your brother is to strengthen him to do his duty, whatever that may be." The hot fit of her mental fever returned. She sprang to her feet, and her face turned again almost like that of a corpse with pale wrath. "Leave the house!" she said, turning sharply upon Polwarth, who stood solemn and calm at Wingfold's side, a step behind. It was wonderful what an unconscious dignity radiated from him. "If my friend goes, I go too," said Wingfold. "But I must first tell your brother why." He made a step towards the dressing-room. But now came a fresh change of mood upon Helen. She darted between him and the door, and stood there with such a look of humble entreaty as went to his very heart, and all but unmanned him. Ah, how lovely she looked in the silent prayer of tears! But not even her tears could turn Wingfold from what seemed his duty. They could only bring answering tears from the depth of a tender heart. She saw he would not flinch. "Then may God do to you as you have done to me and mine!" she said. "Amen!" returned Wingfold and Polwarth together. The door of the dressing-room opened, and out came Leopold, his white face shining. "God has heard me!" he cried. "How do you know that?" said his sister, in the hoarse accents of unbelieving despair. "Because he has made me strong to do my duty. He has reminded me that another man may be accused of my crime, and now to conceal myself were to double my baseness." "It will be time enough to think of that when there is a necessity for it. The thing you imagine may never happen," said Helen, in the same unnatural voice. "Leave it," cried Leopold, "until an innocent man shall have suffered the torture and shame of a false accusation, that a guilty man may a little longer act the hypocrite! No, Helen, I have not fallen so low as that yet. Believe me, this is the only living hour I have had since I did the deed!" But as he spoke, the light died out of his face, and ere they could reach him he had fallen heavily on the floor. "You have killed him!" cried Helen, in a stifled shriek, for all the time she had never forgotten that her aunt might hear. But the same moment she caught from his condition a lurid hope. "Go, I beg of you," she said--"by the window there, before my aunt comes. She must have heard the fall. There is the key of the door below." The men obeyed, and left the house in silence. It was some time before Leopold returned to consciousness. He made no resistance to being again put to bed, where he lay in extreme exhaustion. CHAPTER XXX. THE STRONG MAN.