Once that I am out of this man's clutches, Braun will never dare to follow or claim me.

For, he fears the Vienna police as much as I." Brave in her love, happy in her lover's safety, Irma Gluyas only lived to meet once more the man who had awakened her nobler nature.
To be his slave, to drift down the years with him, was all she asked; only to see his face again! She was held in Love's bondage now! And, wrapped in her dreams of the future, she forgot the man at her side, who now compassed her death.

"I must make my treasure safe first," he craftily planned, "and then lose this hawk-eyed devil.
But only when my future is secure beyond all reach!" With all his bridges burned behind him, Fritz Braun easily threaded the network of railways of the Eastern German frontier.
For years he had studied over the hiding place upon the triangular frontier of Poland, Germany, and Austria; and now, he only longed for a freedom from Irma Gluyas' haunting eyes.
"Leah can join me later; but even she must not know of this fool's fate!" Safe in his own conceit, Fritz Braun drew happy breaths of relief when he was safely hidden in the little village of Schebitz, under the frowning crags of the Silesian Katzen Gebirge.
"Here we can rest in safety till the storm blows over," he said, as Irma Gluyas followed him into the arched entrance of an old half-forgotten manor house.

"You shall have your books and music; we can take a run whenever we like, and you shall have nothing to fear, for my American friends will take care of me." And then began the double duel of wits, in which, all innocent of suspicion of danger, the woman whose soul was struggling toward the light again, hid the darling secret of her heart--the coming of the man who was to free her from the tyranny of her past sins! "His love will find me out, even here," she murmured, as she listened to the wild breezes sweeping down from the pine-clad mountains.
"And I shall live once more--a bond slave no longer!" It was two weeks after their arrival when Braun felt safe to leave his dangerous charge with the peasant spies whom he had gathered as servants.
His money was safe, hidden in the old manor house; and he felt the skies were clear when he entered the money-changers at Breslau, where he cautiously sold some of his smaller bills.
On the table in the bank lay a copy of the New York Herald.

His stern face paled as he gazed upon the flaring head-lines.