"Your husband?
Save him from what?
Where is he ?" "A prisoner to the Spaniards; condemned to die to-morrow at sunrise." "His name ?" "Chevalier Charles de Noyan." "Where confined ?" "Upon the flag-ship in the river." I turned away and stood with my back to them both.

I could no longer bear to gaze upon her agonized face uplifted in such eager pleading, such confiding trust; that one sweet face I loved as nothing else on earth.
Save her husband! For the moment it seemed as if a thousand emotions swayed me.

What might it not mean if this man should die?
His living could only add infinitely to my pain; his death might insure my happiness--at least he alone, as far as I knew, stood in the way.

"To die to-morrow!" The very words sounded sweet in my ears, and it would be such an easy thing for me to promise her, to appear to do my very best--and fail.

"To die to-morrow!" The perspiration gathered in drops upon my forehead as I wavered an instant to the tempting thought.
Then I shook the foul temptation from me.