“Because”--his voice sunk to a whisper, but I heard it, as I would have recognized his thought had he not spoken at that moment--“because I am the chief of the organization you mention. Irene, now you have _my_ secret.”
I do not think she uttered a sound, but I heard the dying cry of her soul in her very silence. He may have heard it, too, for his look showed sudden and unfathomable pity.
“This is a blow to you,” he said. “I do not wonder; there _is_ something hateful in the fact; latterly I have begun to realize it. That is why I have allowed myself to love. I wanted some relief from my thoughts. Alas! I did not know that a full knowledge of your noble soul would only emphasize them. But this is no talk for a ballroom. Cheer up, darling, and----”
“Wait!” She had found strength to lay her hand on his arm. “Did you know that a man was condemned to-day?”
“Yes,” he bowed, casting an anxious look towards the room from which came the mingled sounds of dance and merriment. “The bell which announces the fact rang during my absence. I did not know there was a name before the society.”
She crouched, covering her face with her hands. I think she was afraid her emotion would escape her in a cry. But in an instant they had dropped again, and she was panting in his ear:
“You are the chief and are not acquainted with these matters of life and death? Traitors are these men and women to you--traitors! jealous of your influence and your power!”
He looked amazed; he measured the distance between himself and the door and turned to ask her what she meant, but she did not give him the opportunity.
“Do you know,” she asked, “the name of the person for whom the bell rang to-day?”
He shook his head. “I am expecting a messenger with it any moment,” said he, looking towards the rear of the conservatory. “Is it any one who is here to-night?”
The gasp she gave might have been heard in the other room. Language and motion seemed both to fail her, and I thought I should have to go to her rescue. But before I could move, I heard the click of a latch at the rear of the conservatory, and saw, peering through the flowers and plants, the wicked face of the man with the receding forehead whom I had seen at madame’s, and in his arms he held THE BOX.