What possession more awful that mortal can name
Than the stigma of passion—the birthright of shame—
The cloud of abasement grows deep and more dense
Till the soul is deformed in its darkness, intense.

It was only for a moment that Elizabeth crouched thus on the floor, for before Sir Frederic could reach her side she had staggered to her feet and confronting the trembling man with eyes grown suddenly haggard like his own, she exclaimed brokenly:—

"Oh, Lawrie! Lawrie! You won my love when my heart was innocent of sin; you deceived me and denied our marriage; you left your child to be born in dishonor and your lawful wife without protection,—but I will gladly forgive it all if you will only right the wrong that you have done[Pg 206] our little one by giving her, even at this late hour, her rightful name!"

Throughout her tearful, passionate appeal, the man she called her husband shrank back with lowered lids and hands upraised before his face as if to avert the torrent of reproaches that fell from her long silent lips; but now as she forgot her wrongs and only begged the rightful heritage of her child, the blood rushed violently to his face and rising, he bent unsteadily toward her as with blazing eyes and husky tones he exclaimed excitedly:—

"Name? My God! How can I give that which I never had?"

Then turning almost savagely to the wondering witnesses, he said bitterly, "Coward and cur I may be, but that is my only legacy,—my only inheritance from the parents who brought me into a world of sin and left me, nameless and alone,—an outcast upon society and a leper among those who boast their proud morality."

Then as his gaze rested once more upon his grief stricken wife, he lowered his tones to almost gentleness as he added: "I saved your honor by[Pg 207] a legal marriage, but shame for the one honorable act of my life made me deny it:—

"I tried to kill you," he continued recklessly, but Elizabeth, realizing the awful consequences of the dreadful admission, sprang forward, crying sharply, "No! No! Lawrie,—not that! Do not say that!" but he thrust her wildly aside and went on as if no interruption had occurred:

"That was the second honorable impulse of my life. I knew the misery and shame of your surroundings was worse than death and as I had no name to offer you I tried to end your wretchedness"—

Before he could say more the hand of the law was upon him, and a stern but kindly intentioned voice, said briefly, "Hush, man,—you are closing the door of a prison cell upon yourself by your talking; come, answer me and be brief,—are you or are you not Maurice Sinclair?"

"I am not," was the husky answer.

"Are you or are you not, Lawrence Maynard?"

At this question Elizabeth leaned heavily forward on Mrs. Sinclair\'s arm, straining every nerve in her eag............