“She is indeed a queen, a priceless woman,” murmured Fair quietly, “but her children are not my children—she never became my wife. She has been a sacred vocation to me, and while men envied me the love of such a wife, I was really living the life of a celibate because of a mad, but inexorable, fixed idea. You fail to understand this? So do I. I only know that nothing in heaven or earth could have deterred me from assuming the position in which I have lived so long. This may be madness—but it is of the very essence of my being. And then I came to love another woman—and you may imagine what I suffered. But there was a satisfaction in it all which, of course, you men will be unable to comprehend. But, see the irony of fate. The only thing that made life possible has been dashed away from me. I lived supported by the thought that Janet and her children were saved from shame by my effacement, and now I must proclaim that they are not my flesh and blood, to shield them from the disgrace of being thought a murderer’s kin. Isn’t it horrible? But it is only fate’s swift way of damning me for what I had just been so weak as to decide to do. I was about to let my love—the gnawing hunger of a real life—have way. I had decided, on this very day, to proclaim my love for— Fellows, for God’s sake, never go back upon your destiny even if, as in my case, it should mean lifelong torture. After all, there may not be a hell after death, for there’s one on this side of the grave—and I am in it.” He dropped his head on the edge of the table. Allyne, whose heart was like a child’s, could bear the sight of his agony no longer, and walked to the end of the room. Travers came over to Fair’s side and laid his hand on his head. “This is the most stupendous thing I ever heard of, Fair,” he said; “and if there is such a thing as justice, you shall not suffer.” “There is a thing called justice,” replied Fair, looking up, “and therefore I must die.” “Not if you will allow us to save you from yourself,” cried Allyne, returning to them. “My soul, man, no case can be made out against you unless you make it yourself. Do let us act for you. Counsel must be secured at once. Come, come, I know the very man.” “Presently, presently,” answered Fair. “I telegraphed Marshall, my solicitor, that we would call at his chambers tonight at ten. But before we go I want you two to have the case in detail. I promise to be governed by you and Marshall when you have all the facts. That’s reasonable.” “Then there will be no difficulty, I promise you,” replied Allyne, with renewed good spirits. “Marshall has no romantic rubbish in his gray matter. Maxwell, you’re a disembodied ghost of some crusader who hasn’t heard that Adam and Eve left Paradise some time ago for good. I drink to you, Sir Altruist.” “Thanks, old chap,” said Fair, with moistening eyes. “By Jove, I feel better,” exclaimed Travers, stretching his arms and holding Fair by both shoulders. “I’d like to be worthy of you, Fair.”