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 In my frenzy I was tempted to regret that I had saved her from the infinitely more merciful fate of death. Deeply as I loved her, I would vastly rather see her dead than the wife of the man whose wife she was now inevitably bound to be.

For a moment a wild thought rushed through my mind—that I should induce her to fly the country with me. But the thought was as great a treachery to her as the act would be treacherous to those whose cause she championed with such pure-souled enthusiasm. I recalled with the iciness of a lover's despair her declaration that she would even become the wife of this man, if no other path were open, rather than abandon the cause she had espoused.

There was no escape; and when at length I threw myself on my bed, brain-wearied with the long wild fighting against the inevitable, it was only that the torture of my waking thoughts should be reproduced with all the grotesque horrors of oppressive, sickening dreams.

I awoke with the dawn, dreading the coming of the hour that would bring with it the ordeal of the interview.

For myself my course was soon decided. I would keep my word, and go through with the task of leading the movement to such a successful issue as we could yet snatch from the dangers surrounding and threatening it. But the hour that saw her safely seated on the throne should be my last in the country.

I was revolving these gloomy thoughts over an untasted breakfast when Spernow came.

"You look ill, Count;" for the struggle had written its effects in my face, "Yesterday's doings have upset you."