He took her trembling hands and held them gently in his own.
"I meant to break it to you gently," he said. "But do not be shocked. That is the news I had for you. Irene is alive, and but a few miles away from you. You shall see her soon."
An ominous gasp from Julius Revington recalled them to his side.
"That news will wait," he said. "But I—I have but a little while to live. Listen to me first."
With a beating heart and a face radiant with sudden joy Elaine knelt down beside him. She could have touched Clarence Stuart as he sat by the litter, but she shrunk sensitively back, without looking at him. Guy Kenmore stood apart at a little distance, with his arms folded over his broad breast, his clear brown eyes fixed gravely on the little group.
"Clarence," said the dying man, turning his dim eyes on the face of his cousin, "you believed that this lady deserted you sixteen years ago of her own free will and desire. It was not true."
"Not true!" gasped Clarence Stuart.
"No, it was not true. She loved you and she was true to you. The wicked machinations of your father parted you from each other."
"My father! Oh, God, no!" exclaimed Mr. Stuart, in an agony of grief.
"It is horrible, but it is true," said Julius Revington. "He was bitterly enraged against you because of your marriage with Miss Brooke instead of the heiress he had selected for you. He laid his plans cleverly to circumvent you. Your severe illness that prevented you from returning to your wife was caused from drugs administered by him in the wine you drank that night."