HE TOOK ME IN HIS ARMS AND KISSED MY EYES AND LIPS, AND BLESSED THE DAY HE MET ME.

PART II.

IT all happened in a second's time, and before I could collect my vanished wits the butler pushed me to one side as be refilled the First Secretary's glass, pouring so slowly that I was hidden from view until the scribbled line was on the salver. It seemed a century before I got out of the room, and as I passed toward the door I caught a whisper from the butler. I was to leave the house at once.

      Frälein was waiting and I quite took her breath by hailing the first hansom and promising the cabby much largess if he would drive like mad. He did, and when I burst in on Lutreau for the first and only time in my life I had hysterics.

      We left London that night, and I was posted in Scotland Yard. Zika's circumstantial tale when the robbery was discovered proved convincing enough for the authorities.

      We took passage on a steamship that put in at Gibraltar, and dropped off there. I was a girl once more, and wore short dresses. Lutreau said that they would be more in keeping with my close cropped curls, but I am sure that to keep my appearance as youthful as possible fitted in more to his purpose.

      We now lay for more than a year, travelling in desultory fashion through Southern Europe. Sometimes Lutreau went in for gambling — he always carried his layout with him — and we worked our accustomed game. But in no one place did we tarry long. Lutreau had dropped his English clothes and side whiskers; and had gone back to the imperial and monocle of Paris days. We were father and daughter now, under the name of Veit.

      As I grew older I found much to enjoy in Lutreau's mental whimsies. He read everything that he could lay his hands on, and he carried me with him through the process of digesting what he called "brain manna." Of the French authors he never tired. He would read them aloud to me, extracting some homely moral from risqué situations and glossing over the questionable tales with rare delicacy. His annotation of the works of these French writers, who leave so little to the imagination, was the medium through which he conveyed to me necessary knowledge that he would have found difficult to impart in any other way.

      We finally drifted from Naples to Venice. In the former city our winnings were heavy, and when we reached Venice we lived luxuriously. I had many beautiful gowns and my first jewels, and more admirers than were good for me. Our rooms were thronged every evening, and, together with heavy profits, came a very good time for me.

      Beautiful Venice gave me my first sweetheart, a clear eyed Englishman. It was all very innocent, and for the first time I felt the attraction of the opposite sex. It is the only time in my life that I shared with other girls the things that count in life. We were awfully happy, drifting about in the gondolas, thrilling with that undefinable sensation that only the young, standing upon the border land, can ever know.

      I gave to him all the pent up affection that had found no outlet since mother died, and the days were golden. He asked me to be his wife. I can never forget the day, the flood of sunshine, the ripple of the water and the bits of blue that shone above the canals. I did not hesitate in toy answer. Did not all the world seem reaching out to bless us and to give me the happiness so near and dear? He took me in his arms and kissed my eyes and lips and blessed the day he met me.

      I never saw him after that.

      Full of my happiness, I hastened to Lutreau. He heard me out, walked across to the window, returned and took both my hands.

      "I do not think," he said slowly, "that even the younger son of an English lord would care to marry the accomplice of a thief and gambler."

      The light of life went out that day. I knew myself and with the full awakening began the hardening process that came so near to sending me upon the shoals for good and all.

      Lutreau mercifully took me away next day, and after a short stay in the Alps we went to Berlin. Lutreau bad. left me to myself, to tramp the mountains and think things out, so the change in me was not visible even to his keen eyes.

      We took up the old life, gambling, forging and sleight of hand. Berlin's gay world came to us, and I — well — to forget the ache that wrung my poor little heart, I did as every other woman does who forces a smile to eyes and lips. I laughed, made merry, smoked cigarettes and, despite Lutreau's frowns, tasted of absinthe.

      Our life in Berlin was gayer than I had ever known. High officers of court were our constant guests, and beautiful women, bold of eye and covered with jewels, came in their train. There was no idle time for me, the play was high and Lutreau's signals kept me on the alert. Then, I would not have been a woman had I not quickened to the ardent looks, flowers and bonbons that were my portion. I became the toast of the clubs and Lutreau's popularity grew apace.

      But popularity is not always a desirable quantity. Ours proved our undoing. It brought Zika.

      A creature of Zika's calibre never gives up the chase. He would have run me down, had I gone to the furthest corner of the earth. Besides, Zika wanted his jewels, and never for a moment had he doubted that I could tell him of their whereabouts.

      For the first time Lutreau asked me to trade on my personality. But it was plain to see that the thought was repugnant to him and that he must be in desperate straits.

      I sometimes think that in his tightly sealed heart my mother's child held an affection that the man's repressed nature was incapable of giving expression to.

      Lutreau volunteered more explanation than he had ever before given to me. It was not convenient to leave Berlin. There was a job on, the most important that he had ever ventured. But, and his voice was very kindly, if Zika made the running too hard for me we would close up.

      Zika did. Terrorizing me with threats of exposure and arrest, he forced his attentions upon me, until, frightened and disgusted with life, he wrung from me a promise to go to his rooms. I did not have a chance to tell Lutreau, because he came in late, our rooms were full and the play was running high. Zika had gone, but was to return, and I was to go with him at midnight. I looked so ill that Lutreau made me go to my room, promising to come to me at the first possible moment.

      When Zika came back he had been drinking, and when he found that I was not present the beast in him could no longer be held in leash. Beginning with innuendoes, taunts and sneers, he finally burst forth into a volley of invectives, hurling them at Lutreau and shouting to him to produce me, that he owned me body and soul.

      Those were the last words Zika ever spoke. Lutreau took him by the collar — he was twice Zika'a size — and lifting him like a puppy, carried him to the door, put him out, shut the door, turned the key and returned to the table. There was a scream of rage from 'without, the sound of scuffling and two shots.

      Zika's body was found crumpled up half way down the stairs, a bullet through the heart. That was the first time I knew that Lutreau had a pal who stood guard on the outside.

      The excitement was awful, and in the midst of it Lutreau and I dropped from one of the back windows to a shed below, from thence to a back alley, taking nothing with us but the fur coats that Lutreau was quick enough to think of.

      It is a terrible thing to be hunted, to skulk and hide and tremble with fear! I cannot bear to have furs, the skins of animals or the breasts or wings about me. They bring back that terrible period when, fearful of every disguise, we clung to dark corners, flitting from place to place in the sheltering darkness of the night.

      In this fashion we got back to Italy, where, to add to the difficulties. I succumbed to an illness that clogged brain and muscle. We dressed and lived like beggars, and in the Italian byways that we were compelled to travel there were no comforts. I would have fared badly had not Lutreau carried me in his arms to a convent and given me to the care of the sisters.

      Lutreau hid somewhere in the vicinity until I recovered sufficiently to travel, We then made our way to the coast and embarked for Cairo. It was Lutreau's purpose to hide there for a while and then return to America.

      The sea air restored me, and when we landed at Cairo we registered as Mr. and Miss Jenkins, United States America. I think that we 'were there a week when we suddenly moved to an obscure and very dirty lodging. We had been tracked. Lutreau's nerve never deserted him. He gave me a packet to be opened if he should be taken and secured me an Oriental costume and a stain for my skin. He also gave me full directions as to how to return to Paris and where to go. He thought it best for us to take separate lodgings, so I got into the queer garments and went to live over a bazaar. In two days a scrawl from Lutreau reached me.

      "The game is up. If I can beat them I will either meet you or send word to Paris, otherwise you will know that I have ended life as I began — a gentleman."

      That was my last word from Lutreau. The men who had tracked him down found him still warm, with a wound in his temple.

      And so I was alone in filth ridden Cairo, and did not dare to even see that my poor friend was decently buried.

      The packet contained $5,000 and written directions as to how to get away from Cairo, and what to do when I reached Paris. He even gave me the number of the pension, and the name Mlle. Jardrin that I was to use. But not one word was there of his past or friends.

      That was a sorry time, and I journeyed to Paris with a heavy heart, and, not knowing what else to do, went to the pension as he directed. I lived there for a year, employing an impoverished old gentlewoman as companion. I dressed in deep mourning, and the enshrouding veil was sufficient disguise. And then my evil star shone out again.

      Youth and high spirits are bard enough in themselves to subdue, but when one drops suddenly from a life keyed to the highest pitch of excitement to a drab existence mischief is sure to brew.

      I missed Lutreau, his companionship was a vital thing, charged with infinite variety. Mme. Dranon Was old, sometimes querulous, and always self-centred as to the material side of life. She wearied me, and the reaction threw me in the way of M. Duvigne, who lived at the pension. Possibly thirty-five, he was very good looking and exceedingly gay and amusing. ire evinced the liveliest admiration for me and my crystallized sensibilities did not warn me to look beyond his surface.

      We became good comrades and once more life showed to me its lighter phase. I will pass over the froth that characterized this period. Jolly companions and outings put an end to Mme. Dranon, and I found myself under Duvigne's protection.

      As I had no business acumen I did not look to the future or think what would happen when Lutreau's legacy was spent. Duvigne had no occupation, living by chance, and so it was not long before he was sharing my money.

      I had lived an honest life after Lutreau's death, and though I had never weighed the question as to whether or not I would take up my old profession, my wits were as keen as ever.

      Frequently I amused the visitors who came to our apartment with exhibitions of my sleight of hand tricks. The cleverness of my work suggested to Duvigne that I might work in vaudeville. He arranged all the details and I made my début. My act went well, and later on I was engaged to go with a troupe of French players to New York.

      Duvigne went with me. We opened in a New York vaudeville house, but we did not make a hit, and after two weeks we went to pieces.

      Then Duvigne deserted me, taking every cent of my money except fifty dollars.

      I was alone in New York entirely friendless.

      Finally, when almost reduced to starvation, I procured the position of companion to an elderly woman who was a semi-invalid. For two years my life dragged along in deadly monotony. The woman died in Chicago. She had made a will in the form of a few paragraphs, signed by two witnesses. I copied the thing verbatim, changing the name of the beneficiary to my own.

      My work was well done and would have passed muster, but, alas for my plan! she had made a duplicate one, on the same date, that was witnessed by a notary in addition to the other two witnesses, and then placed it in the keeping of a lawyer.

      There is no use to dwell on the details of the investigation that finally landed me in the penitentiary under sentence for five years. Nor will I write of that dreadful time, when the days passed in ceaseless monotony. My hands calloused with the drudgery and my soul shrivelled with the hopelessness.

      My sentence was commuted, and again I was confronted with the problem of how to live. The prison matron sent me to a woman in Chicago who looked after convict women that had no friends. She found employment for these and helped them on to the right road. She finally procured for me the position of lady's maid.

      The habits of a lifetime are hard to overcome. Sometimes I had to grit my teeth and clench my hands to keep from purloining the trinkets, money and jewels that the women of the family left about. Bitterness at my menial position, a longing for the old life with its gay excitement, made me desperate, and I would determine to forswear the path of righteousness for good and all. And then I would remember the simple, kindly words of the prison chaplain. He never forgot our talk, and the day I left he bade me God speed in fervent words.

      I kept a clean record as lady's maid and after a while became companion to a dear old lady. She had three darling grandchildren, whose daily visits to her grew to be great events to me. How I did romp and play with those children! The games that I invented were wonderful affairs, and I got quite as much fun out of them as they did. The children grew to love me; you may imagine how I returned the affection in double measure, so that when it was discovered that I spoke French and German, I went to them as governess.

      Did I say that I knew no creed? Hanging on the wall of my bedroom in illumined letters are the words, "And a little child shall lead them."

      Those little children led me out of a veritable slough of sin, and took me so far away that I forgot the way back.

      It was the first time I had ever seen any genuine home life — husband, wife and children bound together by ties that were new and strange. Some good angel guided me to this particular home. Mr. and Mrs. Stone were the best type of Americans — young, vigorous, prosperous and loving. To them the paramount thing in life was the spirit of home. They knew nothing of my past, but took me in as one of the family, with the unquestioning faith that is beyond betrayal. It was not long before they joined with the children in evincing a warm affection for me.

      Can you — no, I do not believe any one can realize what this meant to me. I was reincarnated. Never again did I suffer one moment's temptation. The years of sin were not. All the buoyancy of my nature flourished again, and each day brought some new happiness.

      I met my husband in the Stone home. He lived near us, boarding with some friends of the Stones. In the suburbs of Chicago people are neighborly, and came about that we were thrown together.

      I was too happy and busy with the children to think about him. It was through a laughing remark of Mrs. Stone — a teasing allusion to the time when she might lose me, only a bit of nonsense — but it brought a shadow into the sunshine and sent me to my room with a blinding headache.

      I remembered Venice, my clear-eyed English sweetheart, and Lutreau's words that burst my fairy bubble. All through that sleepless night the awful years came back in ghastly array. But the prison chaplain had said that it would be all right, if I did my part; I remembered that.

      The days went on and I tried not to think of Robert, or what it would mean to me to have a home and to be loved as Mrs. Stone was.

      But Robert is a determined man. He was in love and he meant for me to know about it. When he did succeed, despite my efforts to prevent him telling me, he was equally determined to know the reason of my refusal. And so he kept on pleading, and I kept on refusing to tell, until I felt in honor bound to confess everything. He knew that I loved him, and I knew that he was man enough to bury my secret, even though he could love me no longer.

I TOLD HIM THE WHOLE MISERABLE STORY.

      I told him the whole miserable story. We were by the lake, and I can yet see the gray look of his face and the unbelievable horror in his eyes. When I told him how heaven had opened to me when the Stones took me in, and begged him to keep silent, he covered his eyes and wept like a child.

      He had not one word for me, and we returned to my home in silence. I did not see him again for almost a year. One day, without warning, he came in, took me in his arms, and said:—

      "I love you, I trust you. Nothing else matters."

(THE END)