“There came a day, when some fiend forged a letter, and the same vile hand laid it in my husband’s desk.  Only God knows whose is the guilt of that black deed, but I believe it was his sister’s work.  Allen cursed me as unworthy to be the mother of his child, and swore he would be free.  On my knees I begged him to hear, and acquit me.  I confessed all my yearning love for him, I assured him I was the victim of a foul plot; and that if he would only take me back to the heaven of his heart, he would find that no man ever had a more devoted wife.  He wanted an excuse to put me out of his way; he repulsed me with scorn, and before the sun set, he forsook me, and took up his abode with his mother and sister.  Oh! the cruel wrong of that dreadful, parting scene!”

She sprang from the cot, breathless from the passionate recital, beating the air with one small slender hand, while the other tore at the swollen cords of her tortured throat.

Beryl caught the round, prettily turned wrist, and felt the feeble thread of pulse that was only a wild flutter, under the olive satin of the hot skin.

“This excitement only hastens the end you dread.  Lie down, and I will pray for you.”

“I shall soon lie down for ever.  Let me walk a little, before my feet slide into the grave.”

She staggered twice across the length of the cell, then tottered and fell back on the cot.  At every respiration the thin nostrils flared, and the glazed ring below the eyes lost its sullen red tinge, took on blue shadows.

“I did not know then I was to lose my child also; but before long, all the scheme was made clear.  Allen sued for a divorce.  He wanted to shake me off; and he persuaded himself all the foul things my enemies had concocted must be true.  I had lost his love; I was too proud to show my torn heart to the world; and men make the laws to suit themselves, and they help each other to break chains that gall, so Allen was set free.  I shut myself up in two rooms, with my boy, and saw no one.  Even then, though my heart was breaking, and I wept away the lonely days—­longing for the sight of my husband’s face, starving for the sound of his voice—­I bore up; because I knew I was innocent, and unjustly censured, and I had my child to comfort me.  He slept in my arms and kept me human; and we were all the world to each other.

“Then the last blow fell.  There came a note, whose every word bit my heart like an adder.  Allen demanded the boy, whom the law gave to his guardianship; and I was warned I must make no attempt to see him after he was taken away, because he would be taught to forget me.  I refused.  I dared the officer to lay hands on my little one, and I was so frantic with grief, the man had compassion, and left me.  Two nights afterward, I rocked him to sleep and put him in bed.  His arms fell from my neck; half aroused, he nestled his face to mine—­kissed me.  I went into the next room, to finish a shirt I was making for him, and I shut the door, fearing the noise of the machine would wake him.  I sewed half an hour, and—­when I went back, the bed was empty, my child was gone.