The darkness of the City of Dis that seemed to brood under the wings of the stormy night, veiled Beryl’s face; and her silence goaded him beyond the limits of prudence, which he had warily surveyed for himself.

“Day and night, I hear the maddening echo of your accusing cry, ’You have ruined my life!’ God knows, you have as effectually ruined mine.  You have your revenge—­if it comfort you to know it; but I am incapable of your sublime renunciation.  I am no patient martyr; I am, instead, an intensely selfish man.  You choose to hug the ashes of desolation; I purpose to sweep away the wreck, to rebuild on the foundation of one hope, which all the legions in hell cannot shake.  Between you and me the battle has only begun, and nothing but your death or my victory will end it.  You have your revenge; I intend to enjoy mine.  Though he burrow as a mole, or skulk in some fastness of Alaska, I will track and seize that cowardly miscreant, and when the law receives its guilty victim, you shall be freed from suspicion, freed from prison, and most precious of all boons, you shall be freed forever from the vile contamination of his polluting touch.  For the pangs you have inflicted on me, I will have my revenge:  you shall never be profaned by the name of wife.”

Up the rocky hill toiled the horses, arching their necks as they stooped their faces to avoid the blinding rain:  and soon the huge blot of prison walls, like a crouching monster ambushed in surrounding gloom, barred the way.

In two windows of the second story, burned lights that borrowed lurid rays in their passage through the mist, and seemed to glow angrily, like the red eyes of a sullen beast of prey.  The carriage stopped.  A moment after, the deputy-sheriff sprang from his wagon and rang the bell close to the great gate.  Two dogs bayed hoarsely, and somewhere in the building an answering bell sounded.

Beryl leaned forward.

“Mr. Dunbar, there is one last favor I ask at your hands.  I want my--my—­I want that pipe, that was shown in court.  Will you ask that it may be given to me?  Will you send it to me?”

A half strangled, scarcely audible oath was his only reply.

She put out her hand, laid it on his.

“You dare caused me so much suffering, surely you will not deny me this only recompense I shall ever ask.”

His hand closed over hers.

“If I bring it to you, will you confess who smoked it last?”

“After to-night, sir, I think it best I should never see your face again.”

The officer opened the carriage door, the warden approached, carrying a lantern in one hand and an umbrella in the other.  Mr. Dunbar stepped from the carriage and turning, stretched out his arms, suddenly snatched the girl for an instant close to his heart, and lifted her to the ground.

The warden opened the gate, swinging his lantern high to light the way, and by its flickering rays Lennox Dunbar saw the beautiful white face, the wonderful, sad eyes, the wan lips contracted by a spasm of pain.