"Yes, and found my death in doing so," he groaned. "The same hand incited me to that desperate deed that did old Ronald Brooke to death. She was furious with rage and fear when she saw her rival on the stage, and she conceived that terrible plan for putting her out of the way. But I am thankful that my nefarious deed failed, although I can scarcely conceive how my victims escaped." "I can tell you in a moment," answered Guy Kenmore. "In turning an abrupt corner of a street, the carriage parted from the horses, and left us safe, though sadly bruised and frightened in the battered vehicle." "Thank God!" echoed Julius Revington, in his weak tones, and then he added, plaintively: "Call the priest in now, I wish to take my solemn oath to the confession I have made." At that moment Elaine gasped and opened her eyes. They fell upon Clarence Stuart, who bent over her wistfully regarding her. "Elaine, my poor, wronged darling, what can we say to each other?" he whispered, mournfully. She regarded him with grave, reproachful eyes. "Nothing," she answered, firmly. "You forged other ties when you thought me dead. Be true to them." She could not repress that little outburst of jealous reproach, pure and angelic as she was, and with the words she took Guy Kenmore's arm and passed from the room. With a heavy sigh, Clarence Stuart bent over the dying man. Death had blotted out all resentment. "My poor fellow, what can I do for you?" he inquired. "Nothing, only leave me with the priest," he answered, heavily. "I want him to pray for me. I have done with the things of this world." And when he had sworn solemnly to the truth of his confession, he bade his cousin a long and last farewell, and sent him from the room. On the threshold he met the physician coming in with a solemn face. Taking him by the arm, he said, gravely: "My dear sir, prepare yourself for a great shock. The lady's swoon was more serious than we thought. She never revived from it. Her terrible excitement killed her." Well, it was best so. How could he have ever looked in her face again, knowing that the death of old Ronald Brooke lay on her white, woman hands? Just before daybreak they brought him word that Julius Revington was dead. He went and looked a moment at the still, white face, and the old priest told him that his cousin had died peacefully, trusting to the full in the mercy and pardon of Heaven. Clarence Stuart shuddered and thought of that other one who had gone swiftly and unrepentantly before the bar of that God whose commands she had outraged.