allthought of you. It is because--because of your decision to marry thisman, Zertho, that I grieve."
"It is not my decision," she protested. "I am forced to act as I amacting."
"But you shall never marry him!"
"Unfortunately it is beyond your power to assist me, George," sheanswered, in a tone of despair. "We love each other, it is true, but wemust end it all. We must not meet again," she added, in a voice brokenby emotion. "I--I cannot bear it. Indeed, I can't."
"Why should you say this?" he asked, reproachfully. "Loving each otheras fondly as we do, we must meet. No power on earth can prevent it."
They looked fondly into each other's eyes. Liane saw in his intensepassion and earnestness, and knew how well he loved her. Plunged inthought, she traced a semicircle in the dust with the ferrule of hersunshade.
"No," she said at length, quite calmly. "You must forget, George. Ishall leave here to marry and live away in the old chateau in Luxembourgas one buried. When I am wedded, my only prayer will be that we maynever again meet."
"Why?" he cried, dismayed.
"Because when I see you I always live the past over again. All thosebright, happy, joyous days come back to me, together with the tragiccircumstances of poor Nelly's death--the dark shadow which fell betweenus, the shadow which has lengthened and deepened until it has now formeda barrier insurmountable."
"What does Nelly's death concern us?" he asked. "It was tragic andmysterious, certainly; nevertheless, it surely does not prevent ourmarriage."
For an instant she glanced sharply at him, then lowering her gaze,answered drily,--
"Of course not."
"Then why refer to it?"
"Because the mystery has never been solved," she said, in a tone whichsurprised him.
"Where the police have failed we can scarcely hope to be successful," heobserved. Yet the harsh, strained voice in which she had spoken puzzledhim. More than once it had occurred to him that Liane had neversatisfactorily explained where she had been on that well-rememberedevening, yet, loving her so well, he had always dismissed any suspicionas wild and utterly unfounded. Nevertheless, her statements to severalpersons regarding her actions on that evening had varied considerably,and he could not conceal the truth from himself that for a reasonunaccountable she had successfully hidden some matter which might be ofgreatest importance.
"Do you think the truth will ever come out?" she inquired, her eyesstill downcast.
"It may," he answered, watching her narrowly. "The unexpected oftenhappens."
"Of course," she agreed, with a faint smile. "But the police haveobtained no further clue, have they?" she asked in eagerness.
"Not that I'm aware of," he answered briefly, and a silence fell betweenthem. "Liane," he said at last, turning towards her with a calm,serious look, "I somehow cannot help doubting that you are actingaltogether straightforward towards me."
"Straightforward?" she echoed, glancing at him with a look half ofsuspicion, half of surprise. "I don't understand you."
"I mean that you refuse to tell me the reason you are bound to marrythis man you hate," he blurted forth. "You are concealing the truth."
"Only because I am forced to do so," she answered mechanically. "Ah,you do not know all, George, or you would not upbraid me," she addedbrokenly.
"Why not tell me? Then I might assist you."
"No, alas! you cannot assist me," she answered, in a forlorn, hopelessvoice, with head bent and her gaze fixed blankly upon the ground. "Ifyou wish to be merciful towards me, leave here. Return to London andforget everything. While you remain, my terrible secret oppresses mewith greater weight, because I know that I have lost for ever all loveand hope--that the judgment of Heaven has fallen upon me."
"Why, dearest?" he cried. "How is it you speak so strangely?" Then inan instant remembering her curious words when they had met at MonteCarlo, he added, "Anyone would believe that you had committed somefearful crime."
She started, staring at him with lips compressed, but uttering noresponse. Her face was that of one upon whose conscience was someguilty secret.
"Come," he said presently, in a kind, persuasive tone. "Tell me whypoor Nelly's death is a barrier to our happiness."
"No," she answered, "I cannot. Have I not already told you that mysecret is inviolable?"
"You refuse?"
She nodded, her breast heaving and falling.
"Every detail of that terrible affair is still as vivid in myrecollection as if it occurred but yesterday," he said. "Until quiterecently I have always believed that the assassin stole the brooch shewas wearing; but I am now confident that it was stolen between the timeI discovered the body and returned with assistance from the village."
She held her breath, but only for a single instant.
"What causes you to think this?" she inquired. "Because I distinctlyremember that the brooch was still at her throat when I found her lyingin the road. Yet when I returned it was missing. The assassin was notthe thief."
"That has been my theory all along," she said.
He noticed the effect his words produced upon her, and was puzzled.
"You have never explained to me, Liane, the reason you did not keep yourappointment with me on that evening," he said gravely. "If you had beenat the spot we had arranged, Nelly's life would most probably have beensaved."
"I was prevented from meeting you," she answered vaguely, after asecond's hesitation.
"You have already told me that. What prevented you?"
"A curious combination of circumstances."
"What were they?"
"I started out to meet you, but was prevented from so doing."
"By whom?"
"By a friend."
"Or was it an enemy?" he suggested. Her statement did not coincide withthe fact that she had written to him postponing their meeting.
"I do not know," she replied. "When we parted it was long past the hourwe had arranged, so I returned home."
"Nelly must at that moment have been lying dead," he observed. "Haveyou any idea what took her to that spot of all others?"
"None whatever," Liane replied. "Except that, unaware of ourappointment, she met someone there."
"You think she met there the person who afterwards shot her?"
"That is my belief."
"Then if you know nothing further regarding the mysterious affair whyshould it prevent our marriage?" he asked, regarding her intently.
"It is not only that," she replied quickly, "but there is a furtherreason."
"What is it? Surely I may know," he urged. "You will not send me awayin doubt and ignorance, when you know I love you so well."
"I cannot tell you," she answered, panting.
"Then I shall not leave you, and allow you to become this man's wife--nay, his victim," he exclaimed passionately. "You do not love him,Liane. You can never love him. Although once a cheat and adventurer hemay now have wealth and position, nevertheless he is no fitting husbandfor you, even though he may give you a fine chateau, a town house inBrussels, and a villa here, on the Riviera. Wealth will never bring youhappiness."
"Why do you not leave me, George?" she cried, with a sudden movement asif to rise. "Why do you taunt me like this? It is cruel of you."
"I do not taunt you, dearest," he protested in a tone of sympathy. "Imerely point out the bitter truth. You are betrothed to a man who is inevery respect unworthy of you."
"Ah, no!" she exclaimed hysterically. "It is myself who is unworthy.I--I cannot break the bond between us because--because I fear him."
"If he holds you secretly in his power why not confide in me?" her loversuggested earnestly. "I may devise some means by which you may escape."
"If I did you would only hate me," she answered, her lips trembling inblank despair. "No, do not persuade me. There is but one course I canpursue."
"You intend marrying him?" he observed huskily.
"Unfortunately it is imperative."
/> "Have you ever reflected how utterly wretched your life must necessarilybe under such circumstances?" he asked, gazing seriously into her eyes.
"Yes," she answered, endeavouring vainly to restrain the sob whichescaped her. "I know full well the life which must now be mine.Without you I shall not care to live."
"Then why not allow me to assist you?" he urged.