Yes! she had disallowed the direct evidence of her own senses rather than believe such diabolical wickedness of her idol!  But now the evidence of her own eyes and ears was corroborated by the most complete and convincing testimony—­the conversation under the balcony, as reported by Rose Cameron’s messenger, corresponded exactly with the conversation overheard by herself at the time and place it was said to have occurred, but which she dismissed from her mind as an evil dream!  This corroborating testimony proved it to be an atrocious reality!  And the man to whom she had given her hand that morning was an accomplice in the murder of her father! unintentionally perhaps, for the witness testified to the horror he expressed on learning from his confederate that a murder had been committed:  “The old man squealed and we had to squelch him!” How she shuddered at the memory of these horrible words!

But this man was not her husband, after all!  Although a marriage ceremony had been performed between them by a bishop, he was not her husband, but the husband of Rose Cameron.  She had overwhelming and convincing proof of this also!

The letters written to Rose Cameron, calling her his dear wife, and signing himself her devoted husband “Arondelle,” were in the handwriting of the Duke of Hereward!  She could have sworn to that handwriting, under any circumstances.

And the photograph shown as the likeness of Rose Cameron’s husband, was a duplicate of one in her own possession, given her by the duke himself.

And, above all, the certificate of marriage between them, signed by the officiating clergyman and witnessed by the officers of the church, was unquestionably genuine, regular, and legal!

No! there was not one merciful doubt to found a hope of his innocence upon!  It was amazing, stupefying, annihilating, but it was true.  Her idol was a fiend, glorious in personal beauty, diabolical in spirit, as the fallen archangel Lucifer, Son of the Morning!

He was deeply, atrociously, insanely guilty!

Yes, insanely! for how could he have acted so recklessly, as well as so criminally, if he had not been insane?  Would he not have known that swift discovery and disgrace were sure to follow the almost open commission of such base crimes?  And if no feeling of honor or conscience could have deterred him, would not the fear of certain consequences have done so?

His insanity was her only rational theory of the case!  But his supposed insanity did not vindicate him to her pure and just mind.  For he was not an insane man so much as an insane devil!  He had only been mad in his recklessness, not in his crimes.