And then in the rush of his onward course, a dull hopeless feeling came over him.
"Kismet!" he cried.

"It is too late now.

If they had only trusted me! If they had told me all and given my fighting soul a chance to redeem the lost promise once written on my brow.

I have played a man's part before! I might, perhaps, have won this girl's gratitude and earned Justine's love to be a shield and a buckler to me.

But--" his head, overweaned with care, drooped down, and in the company of strange visions and and dreams of ominous import, the hunted soldier of fortune forgot alike the echoing voice of his better angel, and lost from view, the shadowy faces of both the woman who had lured him to a living death, and the tender-hearted one whose heart was glowing at Lausanne in all the fervor of her unrequited devotion.