that his feet had not faltered one instant on their errand of warning.
So it is that to the most noble, to the most white-souled of men, come thoughts of evil, promptings of the lower nature. It is not, as unwilling sinners would fain believe, that the good are so by nature and without effort; it is that they have strength to strangle the evil thought before it becomes a deed, to tear out the base desire and cast it from them before it is fulfilled.
All was quiet at Margaret's dwelling, no sign of life about the house or garden. His imagination, without doubt, had tricked him. The flowers bloomed serenely, the bird in the magnolia-tree twittered to her little ones, and the cat, sunning herself under the piazza rail, rubbed her nose against his legs in friendly greeting. The studio door stood ajar. He stepped quickly over the threshold; his foot slipped on something shiny and treacherous, and as he saved himself from falling, he saw lying before him the form of his friend Robert Feuardent, his face white and set with the look of death. The dago saw all this too, and one thing more,—a small dagger, which glistened in the light and broke the sunbeams into splinters of colors more splendid than the rarest gems. He hid the weapon in his breast, with a watchful glance at Philip to see
