I was strangely moved, and not a little

surprised. I had fancied he was cured.

Six

years, and still the thought of Marion St. Maur had power over him like this!

"Nay, George," I interposed, "you are surely

He may

taking the darkest view of the case. not be so bad as he was when I knew him, and furthermore his wife is not obliged to reside with him-certainly not without efficient protection."

"Don't try to deceive me," he said, roughly. "Don't prophesy smooth things. You forget that he is as free as you or I at this moment, and can compel his wife to live with him when he pleases. I read all that he meant in his eye. Blind fool that I was not to have translated at its proper value that devilish glance. Through pride and obstinacy I have sacrificed the woman for whom I would at any time these ten years have gladly laid down my life." There was a pause; and he turned away and paced up and down the room. He stopped short, and said to me fiercely enough: "Besides, if you think he may not be so very dangerous, what have you

been swearing to-day? Your phrase about her not living with him is of no value, for I knew then, and know now full well, that she meant to do so, even if her life is to pay the forfeit of her infatuated immolation."

"Are you quite sure of that, George?"

"Quite sure," he said; "she told me, after I had promised to defend her husband, that if I freed him she would never leave him again, and that if I lost my cause she would see my face no more.”

Was this some subtlety of penance, I wondered to myself, devised by her woman's heart for that involuntary infidelity of the mind, of which none but herself was cognisant? for any one more irreproachable in her conduct since her marriage it would have been difficult to find, even in the world's estimation.

"Poor Marion!" George continued, in a melancholy strain; "she talked of going to the far regions of the world, where none could track her. She could hardly have hidden herself from me, I think, if I had been minded to trace her flight. Up to the moment of Tremlett's making

his absurd speech, I had hoped, in spite of your illgot up case, that I was on the right side; but when he looked at me, I was undeceived. I can't forget the expression of his eye; it had been hidden, carefully kept under, and was evanescent; but it betrayed volumes to my mind; and to think that Marion will persist in placing herself entirely at his mercy. You doctors pretend to know everything; can you tell me the secret of this marvellous instinct-this spaniel-like fidelity to such a man as Tremlett ?"

I made no answer to this-indeed, I had none to make. I was in my heart not a little annoyed at his reiterated assertions as to the quality of the evidence, and the ability of the managers on our side; and I was industriously reassuring myself as far as possible with the reflection that I had done my best, and spoken according to truth, that juries were proverbially stupid, &c.; so instead of replying I asked a question in my turn: "Where are Tremlett and his wife going? Do you know their plans?"

"No, nor any one else, I think. All I can

tell you is that he had a will ready prepared, and that as soon as the trial had terminated he insisted on my witnessing it. He made this request personally, observing that as I was one of the few who did him the honour to believe him sane, it was fitting I should subscribe my testimony to the fact. I, Lawrence Tremlett, being in sound mind,' &c., and he laughed immensely as he read over the preamble; but it was not a pleasant laugh to her, in my opinion, Paul; and then he said he and his wife were going away for change of scene, and the enjoyment of their new liberty: and Mrs. Tremlett laughed too, and looked, I solemnly declare, as happy, and as bright and sunny as in the days I first knew her. O woman! who was it named you le mensonge incarné?"

"There, George, that will do; don't talk bad philosophy."

"You've heard all I know," he said, abruptly. "Good-night, Paul."

"Good-night, George-fare you well!" and for many months we heard no more of Lawrence Tremlett and his wife.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE SECRET BETRAYED IN DEATH.

"Inter delicias semper aliquid sævi nos strangulat. For a pint of honey thou shalt here likely find a gallon of gall, for a dram of pleasure a pound of pain, for an inch of mirth an ell of moan; as ivy doth an oak, these miseries encompass our life."-BURTON.

It was assize-time in a certain town in the northwest of England. This business was then an affair of much greater pomp and importance than it is suffered to be in these days, when most of the inns are closed for lack of custom, and the grass grows in the streets.

The principal hotel at that time, known as King George's Arms, was always well frequented, but on this particular day it was full to overflowing. There was, however, something unusual about the aspect of those who hurried in and out, as though some unexpected or singular