untie you. But listen attentively to what I have the honour to
say to you."

Very carefully he untied the knots that bound her feet.
"What would be the use of calling out? Nobody can hear your

cries. You are too well bred to make any unnecessary fuss. If
you do not stay quietly, if you insist upon a struggle with me, I

shall tie your hands and feet again. All things considered, I
think that you have self-respect enough to stay on this sofa as

if you were lying on your own at home; cold as ever, if you will.
You have made me shed many tears on this couch, tears that I hid

from all other eyes."
While Montriveau was speaking, the Duchess glanced about her; it

was a woman's glance, a stolen look that saw all things and
seemed to see nothing. She was much pleased with the room. It

was rather like a monk's cell. The man's character and thoughts
seemed to pervade it. No decoration of any kind broke the grey

painted surface of the walls. A green carpet covered the floor.
A black sofa, a table littered with papers, two big easy-chairs,

a chest of drawers with an alarum clock by way of ornament, a
very low bedstead with a coverlet flung over it--a red cloth with

a black key border--all these things made part of a whole that
told of a life reduced to its simplest terms. A triple

candle-sconce of Egyptian design on the chimney-piece recalled
the vast spaces of the desert and Montriveau's long wanderings; a

huge sphinx-claw stood out beneath the folds of stuff at the
bed-foot; and just beyond, a green curtain with a black and

scarlet border was suspended by large rings from a spear handle
above a door near one corner of the room. The other door by

which the band had entered was likewise curtained, but the
drapery hung from an ordinary curtain-rod. As the Duchess

finally noted that the pattern was the same on both, she saw that
the door at the bed-foot stood open; gleams of ruddy light from

the room beyond flickered below the fringed border. Naturally,
the ominous light roused her curiosity; she fancied she could

distinguish strange shapes in the shadows; but as it did not
occur to her at the time that danger could come from that

quarter, she tried to gratify a more ardentcuriosity.
"Monsieur, if it is not indiscreet, may I ask what you mean to

do with me?" The insolence and irony of the tone stung through
the words. The Duchess quite believed that she read extravagant

love in Montriveau's speech. He had carried her off; was not
that in itself an acknowledgment of her power?

"Nothing whatever, madame," he returned, gracefully puffing the
last whiff of cigar smoke. "You will remain here for a short

time. First of all, I should like to explain to you what you
are, and what I am. I cannot put my thoughts into words whilst

you are twisting on the sofa in your boudoir; and besides, in
your own house you take offence at the slightest hint, you ring

the bell, make an outcry, and turn your lover out at the door as
if he were the basest of wretches. Here my mind is unfettered.

Here nobody can turn me out. Here you shall be my victim for a
few seconds, and you are going to be so exceedingly kind as to

listen to me. You need fear nothing. I did not carry you off to
insult you, nor yet to take by force what you refused to grant of

your own will to my unworthiness. I could not stoop so low. You
possibly think of outrage; for myself, I have no such thoughts."

He flung his cigar coolly into the fire.
"The smoke is unpleasant to you, no doubt, madame?" he said,

and rising at once, he took a chafing-dish from the hearth, burnt
perfumes, and purified the air. The Duchess's astonishment was

only equalled by her humiliation. She was in this man's power;
and he would not abuse his power. The eyes in which love had

once blazed like flame were now quiet and steady as stars. She
trembled. Her dread of Armand was increased by a nightmare

sensation of restlessness and utter inability to move; she felt
as if she were turned to stone. She lay passive in the grip of

fear. She thought she saw the light behind the curtains grow to
a blaze, as if blown up by a pair of bellows; in another moment

the gleams of flame grew brighter, and she fancied that three
masked figures suddenly flashed out; but the terrible vision

disappeared so swiftly that she took it for an optical delusion.
"Madame," Armand continued with cold contempt, "one minute,

just one minute is enough for me, and you shall feel it
afterwards at every moment throughout your lifetime, the one

eternity over which I have power. I am not God. Listen
carefully to me," he continued, pausing to add solemnity to his

words. "Love will always come at your call. You have boundless
power over men: but remember that once you called love, and love

came to you; love as pure and true-hearted as may be on earth,
and as reverent as it was passionate; fond as a devoted woman's,

as a mother's love; a love so great indeed, that it was past the
bounds of reason. You played with it, and you committed a crime.

Every woman has a right to refuse herself to love which she feels
she cannot share; and if a man loves and cannot win love in

return, he is not to be pitied, he has no right to complain. But
with a semblance of love to attract an unfortunate creature cut

off from all affection; to teach him to understand happiness to
the full, only to snatch it from him; to rob him of his future of

felicity; to slay his happiness not merely today, but as long as
his life lasts, by poisoning every hour of it and every

thought--this I call a fearful crime!"
"Monsieur----"

"I cannot allow you to answer me yet. So listen to me still.
In any case I have rights over you; but I only choose to exercise

one--the right of the judge over the criminal, so that I may
arouse your conscience. If you had no conscience left, I should

not reproach you at all; but you are so young! You must feel
some life still in your heart; or so I like to believe. While I

think of you as depraved enough to do a wrong which the law does
not punish, I do not think you so degraded that you cannot

comprehend the full meaning of my words. I resume."
As he spoke the Duchess heard the smothered sound of a pair of

bellows. Those mysterious figures which she had just seen were
blowing up the fire, no doubt; the glow shone through the

curtain. But Montriveau's lurid face was turned upon her; she
could not choose but wait with a fast-beating heart and eyes

fixed in a stare. However curious she felt, the heat in Armand's
words interested her even more than the crackling of the

mysterious flames.
"Madame," he went on after a pause, "if some poor wretch

commits a murder in Paris, it is the executioner's duty, you
know, to lay hands on him and stretch him on the plank, where

murderers pay for their crimes with their heads. Then the
newspapers inform everyone, rich and poor, so that the former are

assured that they may sleep in peace, and the latter are warned
that they must be on the watch if they would live. Well, you

that are religious, and even a little of a bigot, may have masses
said for such a man's soul. You both belong to the same family,

but yours is the elder branch; and the elder branch may occupy
high places in peace and live happily and without cares. Want or

anger may drive your brother the convict to take a man's life;
you have taken more, you have taken the joy out of a man's life,

you have killed all that was best in his life--his dearest
beliefs. The murderer simply lay in wait for his victim, and

killed him reluctantly, and in fear of the scaffold; but YOU . .
. ! You heaped up every sin that weakness can commit against

strength that suspected no evil; you tamed a passivevictim, the
better to gnaw his heart out; you lured him with caresses; you

left nothing undone that could set him dreaming, imagining,
longing for the bliss of love. You asked innumerable sacrifices