There were sorrowful letters awaiting me.

Valerie was hidden forever in the yawning tombs of the gloomy old chapel of Jitomir, and Alixe herself wrote of Pierre Troubetlskoi's generous blinding of the pursuit.

I was, however, prosecuted and hunted.

I fled to America, for all our plans of revolt were miserably wrecked--and by Polish traitors! "Two years later, I learned from a fellow refugee that Pierre Troubetskoi had been killed by accident in a great forest battle.

And to Alixe Delavigne, all the wealth which would have been Valerie's was left by the lion-hearted man who awoke too late to the early doom of his beloved.
"I knew naught of the family history save that the sisters were the daughters of Colonel Delavigne, a gallant French officer, who was murdered by the Communists in seventy-one." Alan Hawke was now sternly eyeing the musician, who abruptly concluded: "I have never met Alixe Delavigne since.