THE MARE'S STABLE When Lysbeth's reason returned to her in that empty room, her first sense was one of wild exultation.

She was free, she was not Montalvo's wife, never again could she be obliged to see him, never again could she be forced to endure the contamination of his touch--that was her thought.

She was sure that the story was true; were it not true who could have moved the authorities to take action against him?
Moreover, now that she had the key, a thousand things were explained, trivial enough in themselves, each of them, but in their sum amounting to proof positive of his guilt.

Had he not spoken of some entanglement in Spain and of children?
Had he not in his sleep--but it was needless to remember all these things.

She was free! She was free! and there on the table still lay the symbol of her bondage, the emerald ring that was to give him the means of flight, a flight from this charge which he knew was hanging over him.