.

PLAYING WITH FIRE.
The impulse of La Tribe's foot as he landed had driven the boat into the stream.

It drifted slowly downward, and if naught intervened, would take the ground on Count Hannibal's side, a hundred and fifty yards below him.
He saw this, and walked along the bank, keeping pace with it, while the Countess sat motionless, crouching in the stern of the craft, her fingers strained about the fatal packet.

The slow glide of the boat, as almost imperceptibly it approached the low bank; the stillness of the mirror- like surface on which it moved, leaving only the faintest ripple behind it; the silence--for under the influence of emotion Count Hannibal too was mute--all were in tremendous contrast with the storm which raged in her breast.
Should she--should she even now, with his eyes on her, drop the letters over the side?
It needed but a movement.

She had only to extend her hand, to relax the tension of her fingers, and the deed was done.