Mrs. Ralston entered the drawing-room with the light of a new and strong purpose shining in her eyes.

"Dear friends," she said, "sit near me and give me your attention. I have a story to tell, and I must not fatigue myself too much in the telling."

Without a word, Clarence moved forward an easy chair. As she seated herself, they all grouped about her with grave, expectant faces.

"I will make brief mention of myself," said the lady, sinking back in the luxurious chair with a slightly weary smile. "My life has never been a bright one. Married for the first time at the age of sixteen, my childhood was prematurely blighted, and my first real trouble fell upon me. It was not a happy marriage, and during the years of my first husband's life, I became more and more alienated from my relatives.

"When at last my husband died, I was thirty-six years old, and owing to ill-health, looked much older. But—I was wealthy. Then I met a man, younger than myself, and very handsome. I was weak and foolish. I believed in him and—married him. For four years he squandered my money and made my life a burden. At last, when I could endure no longer, and when, because he had inherited a fortune from some relative, I knew he would trouble himself little as to particulars, I caused him to believe me dead and buried.

"In reality I was in better health than usual, and while he was spending his new fortune and fancying me in the grave, I sailed for Europe. Before I departed, however, I saw him once more, myself unseen. It is this part of my story that will make your hearts glad."

She paused for a moment, and her three listeners gazed into each other's faces in silent wonder.

"I was going to Europe in company with some friends of Mrs. Lord who, of course, knew my secret. They twice postponed their time for sailing, and while waiting for them I went with my maid to a little mountain inn where travelers only came for a day, and then went on up the mountain.

"When I first arrived, the garrulous hostess made frequent mention of a hunting party that had gone up the mountain a few days before, stopping for dinner at the inn. I had been nearly two weeks in my mountain retreat when my maid came rushing in, one day, crying out that the hunting party had come back, and that one of their number had been badly hurt.

"Well, they brought the wounded man up-stairs, and put him in the room that adjoined my sleeping apartment. The partitions between were of the sham kind—merely boards papered over. After he was settled, and the hum of many voices died away, I went into my little bed-room.

"I had scarcely entered when a voice from the next room, a man's voice, deep and full, although then subdued, startled me. I listened unthinkingly. 'There's no use in being weak about this business,' he said. 'Of course, you can make me trouble if you like, but hang me, Percy, I can't see how it will benefit you.'

"I see you are amazed, Doctor Vaughan, and Mrs. Girard is turning pale. You are beginning to guess the truth. Yes, it was Edward Percy who answered the first speaker, and—Edward Percy is my husband."

Again she paused for a moment. One could have heard a pin drop, so breathlessly eager, so silent, were her listeners. No one stirred or spoke, and she soon resumed:

"At the first sound of the other voice, I sank down sick with fear lest the man should, in some way, find me out. Sitting there, I heard him say, in the half fretful, wholly languid tones that I knew so well, 'It's easy to talk as you do; show me wherein it will be to my advantage, if you don't want me to knock down your pretty story. Curse you, what did you try to murder me for?"

"Then the other answered impatiently: 'I tell you, man, I was mistaken. I took you for him. Now listen: Neither you nor I love the fellow, and we each hold a trifle of power over the other. You can refute my statement, if you like, and accuse me of attacking you. In that case I may be imprisoned; but that won't keep you above water long. If I am arrested for assault with intent to kill, you will soon find yourself in the next cell, accused of the still more serious crime of bigamy. On the other hand, if you let the matter rest as it is, and let him take his chances, I won't use those little documents I hold, which prove conclusively that you married a second wife while the first was living. Come, what do you say?'

"I remember their very words; not one syllable escaped me then, or has drifted from my mind since. And I could have predicted what the next words of my husband would be. I know his weakness so well, and I knew, too, then, for the first time, that my vague suspicions had been too true—that he had indeed been false to me, more than false.

"'I will do this,' said he, halting at every few words. 'If you will give me back the money you won from me up there, and will give me up those papers, we will not quarrel over this affair. We will let His Majesty take the consequences of your act, if you choose. I like him even less than I do you. But the money I must have.'

"The other replied: 'I'll do it.' Then the money was counted out and the 'papers' changed hands.

"While they talked, I was seized with an unaccountable desire to see the man I had once loved. I heard my maid moving in the next room, and I arose and went to her. She was a quick-witted creature, and knew just what to do. She made me put on a hat and veil, and throw a shawl about me, and then bade me go down-stairs, while she knocked at the door of the sick-room. When I heard it open I was to come up, and while she made a pretense of offering her services, in case of need, I could obtain, over her shoulder, a view of the occupants of the room. Her ruse was successful. When I ascended the stairs, I obtained a full view of the two men. I should know the dark face of the tall stranger if I came upon it in Africa.

"To do myself justice, I never once thought of the wrong they were doing their victim; never realized that it was my duty to denounce them. Having seen the face of my husband I had but one idea, one desire; to get away, anywhere, the farther the better.

"Early the next morning, I was en route to the city, and there, to my infinite relief I found my friends ready to sail. When at last I was actually on the ocean, and realized that I was safe from discovery, I began to think of the victim whose name I had not heard. But it was too late then, and I tried to ease my conscience by thinking that, after all, as Edward was not dangerously hurt, it might not turn out a serious matter. I watched the papers, but somehow the accounts of the trial all missed me."

As she ceased speaking, her eyes rested sadly upon the face of Olive, and she started forward suddenly, saying: "Doctor, she is going to faint!"

"No," gasped Olive, half-rising, "I, I—"

And she fell forward to be caught in the ready arms of Clarence Vaughan. When at last they succeeded in arousing her from that death-like stupor, and she could sit up and look about her, slowly recalling events, Mrs. Ralston stepped readily into the position of leader, and turning to Claire, said:

"Go and see that lunch is served immediately, dear. We have much to do before night, and must not work fasting."

"Oh," cried Olive, as Claire disappeared, "is this true? Will Philip be released at last, released with every doubt cleared away, every suspicion removed? Tell me, I cannot realize it."

"It is true, dear Mrs. Girard; and now you must not give way to weakness. We dare not lose time. Dr. Vaughan, yourself, and I, in putting these facts in the hands of the right parties, must hasten the legal process by which Philip will be released."

When Claire Keith returned, she found them deep in a discussion as to the quickest way of effecting the release of Philip Girard.

"Let me settle it," she said, imperiously. "To-day you will go to see Philip's lawyers, and when this stupid law process is put in motion, Olive—I know her—will go straight and set herself down outside the very prison gates. But your beautiful laws can lock an honest man up much quicker than they can let him out, and can serve a warrant sooner than do a tardy act of justice. So, if you please, I am going down to Oakley to arrest that vile Lucian Davlin, and get him off poor Madeline's hands."

"You!" cried the two ladies in the same breath.

"Yes, I! Philip won't want anyone but Olive, and Olive will snub me unmercifully if I venture to offer myself as an escort. I'm going to do myself the honor of seeing Mr. Davlin arrested."

"Claire is right," said Mrs. Ralston; "the man must be arrested immediately."

"And," interrupted Olive, "you must all three go to Bellair; that is," looking at Mrs. Ralston, "if—"

"If I will go?" interrupted that lady. "Yes, I, too, intend to be present when Miss Payne gives her enemy up to justice."

"Are you in earnest about going to Bellair, Miss Keith?" Clarence Vaughan asked. "Shall you go, really?"

Claire bestowed upon him a willful little nod over her shoulder, saying, as she did so: "I shall, 'really.' I am confident that something will happen there, and I want a chance to faint!"