They are," her voice hesitated, "good men and women--they are respected--they are"-- "Recreants and slaves, before whom you, spy as you are--stand a queen!" broke in Brant, passionately.

He stopped and turned towards the window.
After a pause he came back again towards the bed--paused again and then said in a lower voice--"Four years ago, Alice, in the patio of our house at Robles, I might have listened to this proposal, and--I tremble to think--I might have accepted it! I loved you; I was as weak, as selfish, as unreflecting, my life was as purposeless--but for you--as the creatures you speak of.

But give me now, at least, the credit of a devotion to my cause equal to your own--a credit which I have never denied you! For the night that you left me, I awoke to a sense of my own worthlessness and degradation--perhaps I have even to thank you for that awakening--and I realized the bitter truth.

But that night I found my true vocation--my purpose, my manhood"-- A bitter laugh came from the pillow on which she had languidly thrown herself.
"I believe I left you with Mrs.Hooker--spare me the details." The blood rushed to Brant's face and then receded as suddenly.
"You left me with Captain Pinckney, who had tempted you, and whom I killed!" he said furiously.
They were both staring savagely at each other.

Suddenly he said, "Hush!" and sprang towards the door, as the sound of hurried footsteps echoed along the passage.