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 you!" I cried, with a rush of passion at the sight of her trouble, and I threw myself on my knee before her. "Tell me how you wish me to act, and when I have failed reproach me with want of staunchness, but not till then."

My voice was hoarse and broken.

As I knelt I could hear the quick catches in her breath as she stood over me, and the very rustling of the trembling laces of her dress seemed to speak to me of her sufferings.

"I have wronged you, or worse—I have insulted you, Count. Ah me! I who know so well how you are indeed my friend! Do not kneel to me. It is I who should kneel to you." And at that her hand, fevered and trembling, was laid gently in mine, as if to raise me to my feet.

I kissed the fingers, the tender grace of her words of contrition almost unmanning me, and driving out all thought but of my love and my desire to comfort her. I rose, and, still holding her hand, gazed into her eyes, which shone on me through the dew of her tears in a smile of loving confidence.

"I trust you wholly," she whispered. "Help me to do right."

"If I were thinking of myself, I would urge you with every means in my power to fly," I said in low, rapid accents of passion.

"No, no, you must not counsel that," she cried vehemently. "We must not, dare not, think of ourselves. Spare me that temptation."

"You cannot stay here and be safe unless we make this desperate venture."

"And the world would say I ran away because I feared for my safety, betraying all who have sought