Two weeks later the judge pronounced the sentence of death. Again the dark figure was by the prisoner’s side, alert, erect, every faculty of mind and body at its highest tension, her cheeks aflame with defiance, her eyes gleaming with hidden fire.

She was sure the Court of Appeals would grant a new trial. She bade her beloved good-by at the gates of Sing Sing, and the door of the Chamber of Death closed upon him.

Day and night she worked with tireless energy. She systematically laid siege to the editors and owners of the papers in New York, and at last won every hostile critic by her patience, her beauty of character, and the infinite pathos of her love.

The moment sentence of death was pronounced on Gordon, Kate sued for a divorce from him as a convicted felon, and it was granted.

The little dark woman became the toast of every hardened newspaper reporter who came in contact with her. The newsboys learned to recognise her from her pictures, and as she went in and out of the court-rooms and the lawyers’ offices they would watch and wait for her, doff their dirty caps, smile, hand her a flower, and cry:

“She’s de queen!”

When Ruth saw the notice of Kate’s divorce, she asked her lawyers to arrange at once for her to remarry Gordon at Sing Sing.

The senior counsel shook his head.

“You must not dare, madam,” he gravely said. “If we should not get a new trial, or fail on the second trial, the Governor at Albany is our only hope.”

A wave of sickening terror swept Ruth’s soul. She recalled King’s strange reserve of the past months. His letters were kind and sympathetic, but there was something hidden between their lines that chilled her.

“We must not lose!” she answered, bitterly.

“I don’t think we will,” the lawyer hastened to assure her. “But we must reserve every weapon.”

The Court of Appeals decided in Gordon’s favour and ordered a new trial.

As the day approached, Ruth’s nervousness increased. His chances were better, but she could hear the awful words of Kate Ransom swearing away his life. Their echoes rang in her soul until she could no longer endure it.

She was at Gramercy Park at last.

When Kate swept proudly and coldly into the room, and extended her hand, she held it in her grasp timidly and nervously.

“I’ve come to beg you,” she said, piteously, “not to say he made those wounds in his own breast. They fought a ............