And then again shame and anger filled
her bosom, her cheeks and eyes.

“Decide! the footstep of Louis is on
the stairs! in a moment it will be too
late! Quick, Miss Eveline, Italy or the
Tombs!”

What a look she gave me, as, half rising,
with a face pale as death, she gasped
“Italy!” and then sank back fainting
upon the sofa. And the next instant
Louis entered. He saw me, and without
a word sank on a chair, and covered his
face with his hands.

“Not a word, Louis! I know all, and
will save you!”

“O sir—”

“No time is to be lost; not a moment.
This afternoon at five I am to decide
whether that check is genuine or a forgery;
and at four the steamer sails for

[figure description] Page 051.[end figure description]

Liverpool. You must be on board of
that steamer, prepared for your journey
to Italy. I will not only save you from
the consequences of the forgery, but will
advance you means to support you for
two years abroad.”

O generous man! How can I ever repay
you!”

“Not a word, but pack up, pack up!
and in your absence I will be as a guardian
to your bride—that is, your betrothed.”

At this moment Eveline revived from
her fainting fit and heard my closing
words.

“All is arranged,” I cried, turning to
her; “Louis consents! Italy is the
word!” Again that look!

But I remained with her and Louis
until his trunks were packed, the needful
money in his pocket, and everything
ready for his departure. They had not a
chance to exchange a word alone. It
was three o'clock; the carriage which
was to bear him to the steamer waited
below; the moment of farewell had arrived.

Louis flung himself into her arms:
“Be true, Eveline—be true to me till
death,” he cried.

She echoed his words—“True to you
till death!” and looked over his shoulder
into my face with that peculiar look. I
stood with folded arms surveying the
scene.

“To your care, patron and benefactor!
do I commit her,” cried Louis. There
was another frantic embrace; and, tearing
her arms from his neck, he hurried
from the room. From the window I
saw him enter the carriage, and saw the
carriage drive away. He was gone. I
was alone with the proud and beautiful
Eveline, who sat on the sofa, now blushing,
and now pale as death.

“Now, my dear ward!” said I, bringing
her bonnet and cloak, “you will go
home with your guardian.” She did
not say a word, but put on her bonnet
and cloak, and took my arm. I felt her
arm tremble, as we left the studio, descended
the stairs, and pursued our way
along Broadway. She dropped her veil
over her face; I could not trace the emotions
there, but I felt her shudder at
every step.

At length we reached my house. “I
have sent to your boarding-house for
your things. This house, in future, shall
be your home.” We entered the mansion;
I called the brown girl Marie:
“This lady, Marie, is your future mistress,”
I said; and then, turning to Eveline,
who, veiled and shuddering, stood
in the centre of the large and gloomy
parlor, I whispered,—“Do you still adhere
to your promise, without equivocation
or thought of escape?”

“I do,” was the answer in a broken
voice.

“Marie, conduct Miss Eveline to her
room. At five, miss, I will be pleased
to see you in this parlor, as the man
with the check will call at that time.”

Eveline went slowly from the parlor;
and I was alone. What strange thoughts
possessed me! Here was a noble and
beautiful girl, willing to sacrifice herself
to save her lover from a felon's cell.

“Wealth is power,” I said, and laughed
to myself; and I employed the next
hour in sending certain of my servants,
in various directions, upon business of
some moment connected with my plans.

Five o'clock came, and with it Mr.
Stebbins, whose thin face glowed with
positive delight as he seated himself in a
chair near the table, upon which stood a
wax candle, and at once unrolled the portentous
pocket-book.

“Ah! on the track of the villain—on
the track of the villain! To-morrow
we'll have him, sure,—eh?”

He stopped abruptly, as, for the first
time, he perceived Eveline, who was
seated upon the sofa in the shadows of
the parlor.

“This young lady is my ward, Mr.
Stebbins. You can speak freely in her
presence.

And, as he ran glibly on, I, leaning
against the mantel, could mark the agitation
of Eveline, which every moment
threatened to break forth in words.

“And so you are on the track of the
villain, are you?”

“On his track, on his track! You see
we've discovered the store at which he
bought the wig which he wore. He is
described as a young, genteel man; and
one of the notes—a $20 bill—which he
received for the check, has been traced
to the hands of the person to whom
he paid it away. To-morrow, Mr. Warner—”

Here Eveline bent forward, clasped

[figure description] Page 052.[end figure description]

her hands, and uttered a low groan; she
evidently suffered deeply.

“To-morrow, Mr. Stebbins, you will
say nothing of this affair,” thus I interrupted
him. “The check was mine.
You will pass it to my account. As to
this story of the wig, that may or may
not be true; but the simple fact is this,
the check was genuine. I applaud your
vigilance, Mr. Stebbins, but this time you
have been grossly deceived. Good-evening,
Mr. Stebbins.”

These words struck Mr. Stebbins with
amazement. It was after a moment of
dumb surprise, that he rolled up the
pocket-book, bade me good-evening, and
departed. I was alone with Eveline. I
drew near to her: “Louis is safe and on
his way to Italy!” I whispered, regarding
her earnestly; she met my gaze, and
trembled from head to foot. And yet,
despite her pallor and her agitation, she
was proudly beautiful.

“Have you no word of thanks?” I resumed,
after a moment's pause.

She raised her eyes; they were filled
with tears. “Oh! have you no mercy?”
she cried, and slid from the sofa on her
knees, and bowed her head upon her
heaving bosom.

“Is this your gratitude? is this your
fulfilment of your promise?” I cried indignantly;
“I saved your lover from a
felon's cell upon one condition; and now
you wish to evade that condition. You
promised to be mine, and—without marriage.
I hold you to the fulfilment of
your promise.”

“O sir, I have loved Louis, loved him
for years; alone in the world, we were
all in all to each other. All his plans
for the future were linked with my happiness;
the very crime which he committed
was done for my sake. And now,
that you have so generously rescued him
from ruin,—can you, Oh! can you, sink
his betrothed wife to eternal infamy?”

“Once for all, Eveline, let me tell you
that such talk is vain.” I raised her
from the floor. “Awake from your
world of romance into the real, practical
world—a world in which everything has
its price, and in which nothing is given
away. You speak of my generosity.
And how came it in my power to be generous?
Do you know, woman? By
selling myself, in a manner, a thousand
fold more infamous than that in which
you are about to sacrifice yourself to
serve your lover.” I must have looked
like a devil, while uttering these words,
for she shrank away from my gaze, covering
her face with her hands.

“Come, Eveline—” I took her by the
hand and led her from the room and up
the stairs into a richly furnished chamber,
where a single light was burning before
a mirror. That mirror reflected our
faces—mine, flushed with mad excitement—
hers, framed in its golden hair,
crimson and snow by turns, and startlingly
beautiful. She clung to my wrist
with both hands, and, for the last time,
regarded me with a look of overwhelming
entreaty. “Mercy!” she whispered.

I pointed to a door which opened into
an adjoining chamber! “Our bridal
room, my love!” and led her toward the
door. Her eyes roved wildly round the
room. An object on the table in front
of the mirror caught her gaze; she seized
it and raised it glittering in the air. It
was a poignard which I had left upon the
table by chance or by design.

“I will keep my promise,” she said, in
a low voice, but with a deathly resolution
in her eyes. “I will sacrifice myself
to you, but you shall not possess me
living;” and she placed the point of the
dagger to her bosom.