" She is going. Hardin springs to the door: "And I shall
see you again?" His voice quivers slightly. Old days throng back
to his memory. "Is it for ever?" His iron heart softens a moment.
"I pray God, never! Philip Hardin, you are dead to me. The past is
dead. I can only think of you with your cruel grasp on my throat!"
She is gone.
As the door closes, Hardin buries his face in his hands. Thoughts
of other days are rending his heart-strings.
Before three hours, the papers are all executed. The morning stage
takes Natalie de Santos, with the priest, and guarded by Armand
Valois, away from the scene of the coming legal battle.
In the early gray of the dawn, Philip Hardin only catches a glimpse
of a muffled form in a coach. He will see the mother of his child
no more. With a wild dash, the stage sweeps away. It is all over.
His agent, in a special conveyance, is already on the road. He has
orders to telegraph the completion of the transfer. He is to verify
the departure for New York, of the ex-queen of the El Dorado.
On the day of the hearing, the court-house is crowded. Pere Francois
and Armand Valois have not yet returned. Both sides have received,
by telegraph, the news of the completion of the work.
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