“He is not exactly a gentleman, and his love for you overrules his instincts of generosity. Besides, there is Belva Platt, who no doubt spurs him on to persecute you.” So Fair mused bitterly over her troubles until the heavy white lids drooped over the tired eyes, the pretty head fell back against her chair, and she slept like a weary child, with her small hand, so delicate and dimpled, in spite of the labor it had to perform, pushed in between the leaves of her book. Thus a long hour went by, and the night wore on. The weary inmates of the house had all retired to rest, and quiet stole over everything. Fair slept on peacefully in her chair, and there was no one to hear the catlike step that approached her door, nor the muffled click of the burglar’s tool that turned back the lock. It opened noiselessly, and a man glided into the room with an evilly exultant smile on his dark face--Carl Bernicci. Shutting the door as softly as he had opened it, the man advanced and gazed with gloating eyes at the sleeping girl, who, with the heavy, dark lashes lying on her rounded cheeks, and the breath coming hotly between her parted lips, looked like a beautiful, innocent child. His face reddened as he gazed, and his breath came hotly. He murmured: “Now, if I can only mesmerize her, as Belva said, she will not cry out when she awakes. She will be charmed, fascinated, and all my own!” He fixed his burning dark eyes with a basilisk gaze upon her lovely face; but, as if it were a serpent trying to charm her in her sleep, the girl started broad awake all in an instant with a cry of fear that rose into a shriek as she perceived the dark face looking down into her own: “Help! Help! Murder!” The girlish voice, wild with fear and anger, seemed to startle all the echoes in the quiet old house into instant life. Fair’s shriek seemed to come ringing back to them: “Help! Help! Murder!” Carl Bernicci recoiled in astonishment for an instant. He had not counted upon anything like this. Belva, who had been his able adviser, had assured him that, once inside the room, Fair would not resist him any further, but would give up her obstinate resistance to his rights, and consent to forgive him and live with him. But her ringing shriek of fear told quite a different story, and he shrank back in alarm, giving her opportunity to spring from her chair and rush toward the door, reiterating her shrill scream for help: “Murder! Murder!” Recovering himself, he sprang after her, and, with a fierce oath, clapped his hand over her mouth. “Be still, you little wild cat!” he said savagely. But Fair, like the wild cat he called her, fought him off with the energy of despair, and the tussle between them was growing fierce indeed when hurried feet were heard rushing along the corridor, the door was quickly burst open, and the room filled with a swarm of excited men, women, and children.