She came back at last, bringing with her the reluctant one for whom the dying woman waited longingly. He bent down over her, trying to hide his horror and aversion under a mask of calmness. The dark eyes, fast growing dim, lighted up with passion as she looked upon his face. "I wanted--to tell you," she gasped, faintly, "that--that all my--sin--was for--love of you, Lance!" He bowed in silence. He had no words with which to answer her passionate avowal. "She is going very fast," said the physician, in a whisper. Mr. Shelton bent over her. "Do you confess your crimes?" he inquired, in a low voice. Her eyes left Lancelot Darling's face one moment, while she gazed into that of the detective. "You are--my--accuser?" she faltered. "I am," he answered, briefly. "Do you confess?" She did not answer. Her gaze had gone back to Lancelot Darling's face, searching its cold, immovable outlines longingly. The white-haired man of God bent over her gently. "Do you confess your sins?" he inquired. No answer. Her dying gaze was fixed on the one beloved face to the exclusion of all other earthly objects. The minister touched her arm gently. "I pray you," he said, "do not suffer yourself to die with your unconfessed sins lying heavy on your soul." She heard the words, and spoke faintly to her idol: "What is it they want--of me--Lance?" "To confess your crimes," he said, coldly. "Oh! Mrs. Vance, are you indeed guilty of all with which you are accused?" "All, all!" she murmured, hollowly. "I tried--to kill Lily--first, you see--then when I felt safe--from detection--old Haidee learned my secret--and threatened to tell _you_--_you_, my darling! So I poisoned her and the old man both--to save myself. But, Lance--it was all for love of you!" There was neither regret nor repentance in her tone--nothing but passionate love and despair. He did not answer, and she broke forth wailingly: "Oh! Lance, do but say that--you--are sorry--that I must die! Say that--you might have learned to love me--poor me--if you had not learned--my fatal secret!" Lance turned his head away that he might not see the agonized pleading of her eyes, and seeing that he could not answer her, the minister again spoke gently: "Mrs. Vance, the time for human love is over with you now! Look rather to the Divine love that is able to pardon your sins though they be as scarlet. Do you repent?" "Repent!" she echoed, with a wild and chilling laugh. "Repent! No, never! Were it all to do over again, and the prize the same, I would wade through seas of blood to reach my darling's heart! All for _love_, and--my soul--well--lost!" With the wild, defiant words, a fresh stream of blood poured forth from her lips. There was a gasp, a spasmodic tremor of all the features, a convulsive quiver of the limbs, and the soul of the guilty woman went wandering forth into the vast arcana of eternity! "The wages of sin is death." CHAPTER XXXIX.