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INSTITUTE OF TRANSPORTATION STUDIES
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY

Public Transportation Systems:

Basic Principles of System Design,
Operations Planning and Real-Time
Control

Carlos F. Daganzo

Course Notes
UCB-ITS-CN-2010-1

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
October 2010
Institute of Transportation Studies
University of California at Berkeley

Public Transportation Systems:

Basic Principles of System Design,
Operations Planning and Real-Time Control

Carlos F. Daganzo

COURSE NOTES
UCB-ITS-CN-2010-1

October 2010

i
Preface
This document is based on a set of lecture notes prepared in 2007-2010 for the U.C. Berkeley
graduate course “CE259-Public Transportation Systems”--a course targeted to first year graduate
students with diverse academic backgrounds.

The document is different from other books on public transportation systems because it is
informal, has a narrower focus and looks at things in a different way. Its focus is the planning,
management and operation of public transportation systems. Important topics such as financing,
governance strategies and urban transportation policy are not covered because they are not
specific to transit systems, and because other books and courses already treat them in depth. The
document is also different because it deemphasizes facts in favor of ideas. Facts that constantly
change and can be found elsewhere, such as transit usage statistics and transit system
characteristics, are not covered.

The document’s way of looking at things, and its structure, is similar to the author’s previous
book “Logistics systems analysis” (Springer, 4th edition, 2005) from which many basic ideas are
borrowed. (Transit systems, after all, are logistics systems for the movement of people.) Both
documents espouse a two-step planning approach that uses idealized models to explore the
largest possible solution space of potential plans. The logical organization is also similar: in both
documents systems are examined in order of increased complexity so that generic insights
evident in simple systems can be put to use as knowledge “building blocks” for the study of
more complex systems.

The document is organized in 8 modules: 5 on planning (general; shuttle systems; corridors; two-
dimensional systems; and unconventional transit); 2 on management (vehicles; and employees);
and 1 on operations (how to keep buses on schedule). The planning modules examine those
aspects of the system that are usually visible to the public, such as routing and scheduling. The
management and operations modules analyze the more mundane aspects required for the system
to work as designed. Two more modules are in the works: management of special events (e.g.,
evacuations; Olympics); and operations in traffic.

Although the document includes new ideas, which could be of use to academics and
professionals, its main aim is as a teaching aid. Thus, a companion document including 7
homework exercises and 3 mini-laboratory projects directly related to the lectures is also made
available. It can be obtained by visiting the Institute of Transportation Studies web site and

ii
looking for a publication entitled: “Public Transportation Systems: Mini-Projects and Homework
Exercises”. Versions of these exercises and mini-projects were used in the 2009 and 2010
installments of CE259: a 14-week course with two 1-hour lectures and one 1-hr discussion
session per week. Sample solutions to the mini-projects and exercises can be obtained by
university professors by writing to the ITS publications office and requesting a third document
entitled: “Public Transportation Systems: Solution Sets”.

The various modules were originally compiled by PhD students Eric Gonzales, Josh Pilachowski
and Vikash Gayah, directly from the lectures. Subsequently, my colleague Prof. Mike Cassidy
used them in an installment of CE259 and offered many comments. This published version has
been edited and reflects the input of all these individuals. Their help is gratefully acknowledged.
The errors, of course, are mine. The financial support of the Volvo Research and Educational
Foundations is also gratefully acknowledged.

Carlos F. Daganzo
September, 2010
Berkeley, California

iii
CONTENTS

Preface .…………………………………………………………………….…………………… i

Module 1: Planning—General Ideas ……………...………………………..……………… 1-1

• Course substance and organization ………………………...………………….……… 1-1
• Transit Planning …………………………………………………………………….… 1-2
o Definitions ……………………………………………………….…………… 1-2
o How to account for politics ………………………………………...………… 1-3
o How to account for demand ……………………………………………..…… 1-6
o The shortsightedness tragedy …………………………………….…………… 1-6
o Planning and design approaches ……………………………………………… 1-7
• Appendix: Class Syllabus ……………………………………………………...…… 1-10

Module 2: Planning—Shuttle Systems ………………………………………….………… 2-1

• Overview ……………………………………………………………………..……….. 2-1
• Shuttle Systems ……………………………………………………………………….. 2-2
o Individual Transportation ………………………………………………….….. 2-2
ƒ Time-independent Demand …………………………………..……….. 2-2
ƒ Time-Dependent Demand – Evening (Queuing) ……………………… 2-3
ƒ Time-Dependent Demand – Morning (Vickrey) ……………………… 2-4
o Collective Transportation ………………………………………………..…… 2-7
ƒ Time-Independent Demand ………………………………………..… 2-7
ƒ Time-Dependent Demand …………………………………….……… 2-8
o Comparison between Individual and Collective Transportation ……….…… 2-10
• Appendix A: Vickrey’s Model of the Morning Commute ………………..………….2-12

Module 3: Planning—Corridors ……………………………………………………..…… 3-1

• Idealized Analysis …………………………………………………………………… 3-2
o Limits to The Door-to-Door Speed of Transit ……………………………… 3-2
o The Effect of Access Speed: Usefulness of Hierarchies ………..…………… 3-5
• Realistic Analysis (spatio-temporal) ………………………………………………… 3-8
o Assumptions and Qualitative Issues ………………………………………… 3-8
o Quantitative formulation …………………………………………………… 3-11
o Graphical Interpretation ……………………………………………..……… 3-12
o Dealing with Multiple Standards …………………………………………… 3-13
o No transfers ………………………………………………………………… 3-14
o Transfers and Hierarchies …………………………………………..……… 3-17
o Insights ……………………………………………………………...……… 3-22
o Standards-Revisited ……………………………………………...………… 3-24
o Space- and Time-Dependent Services ………………………………...…… 3-26
ƒ Average Rate Analysis ………………………………………..…… 3-26
ƒ Service Guarantee Analysis ……………………………..….……… 3-28

iv
Module 4: Planning—Two Dimensional Systems ……………………...………………… 4-1
• Idealized Case (New 2-D Issues) ………………………………..……………….. … 4-1
o Systems without Transfers ………………………………..…….…………… 4-2
o The Role of Transfers in 2-D Systems …….……………………………. 4-4
• Realistic Case (No Hierarchy) ……………………..……………………………….… 4-9
o Logistic Cost Function (LCF) Components ……………………………..…… 4-9
o Solution for Generic Insights …………………………………………..…… 4-10
o Modifications in Practical Applications ……………………………….…… 4-12
o General Ideas for Design …………………………………………………… 4-14
• Realistic Case (Hierarchies--Qualitative Discussion) ………………….…………… 4-16
• Time Dependence and Adaptation ………………………………………………… 4-17
• Capacity Constraints ………………………………………………………………… 4-19
• Comparing Collective and Individual Transportation ……………………………… 4-20

Module 5: Planning—Flexible Transit ………………………….………………………….. 5-1

• Ways of delivering flexibility ………………………………..…………………..……. 5-1
o Individual Public Transportation ……………………………………………… 5-1
o Collective Transportation …………………………………………………...… 5-2
• Taxis ……………………………………………………………………………..…… 5-2
• Dial-a-Ride (DAR) …………………………………………………………….……… 5-6
• Public Car-Sharing …………………………………………………………..………. 5-10
• Appendix: Determination of Expected Distance to a Taxi …………………….……. 5-13

Module 6: Management—Vehicle Fleets …………………………………………………… 6-1

• Introduction ………………………………………………………………………..….. 6-2
• Schedule Covering 1 Bus Route …………………………………...………………….. 6-3
o Fleet Size: Graphical Analysis ………………………………….…………….. 6-4
o Fleet Size: Numerical Analysis ……………………………………………….. 6-6
o Terminus Location …………………………………………………………….. 6-7
o Bus Run Determination ……………………………………………………….. 6-8
• Schedule Covering N Bus Routes ……………………………………….…………….. 6-9
o Single Terminus Close to a Depot …………………………………………….. 6-9
o Dispersed Termini and Deadheading Heuristics …………………………….. 6-10
• Discussion: Effect of Deadheading ………………………………………………….. 6-12
• Appendix: The Vehicle Routing Problem and Meta-Heuristic Solution Methods …... 6-13

v
Module 7: Management—Staffing …………………………………………………..…… 7-1
• Recap ……………………………………………………………………………….…. 7-1
• Staffing a Single Run ……………………………………………………………..…… 7-2
o Effect of Overtime ………………………………………………………..…… 7-3
o Effect of Multiple Worker Types ………………………………………...…… 7-4
• Staffing Multiple Runs …………………………………………………………...…… 7-5
o Run-Cutting …………………………………………………………………… 7-5
o Covering …………………………………………………………….………… 7-6
o Simplified estimation of cost ……………………………………………...……7-6
• Choosing Worker-Types …………………………………………………………….… 7-8
• Dealing with Absenteeism ………………………………………………………..…… 7-9
• What is Still Left to be Done ………………………………………………………… 7-11

Module 8: Reliable Transit Operations ……………………………………………..……… 8-1

• Reliability …………………………………………………………………………..… 8-1
• Systems of Systems …………………………………………………………………… 8-1
o Example 1: a stable single agent ……………………..……………………….. 8-2
o Example 2: an unstable single agent ……………….………………………….. 8-4
o Example 3: two agents …………………………………………..…………….. 8-5
• Uncontrolled Bus Motion ………………………………………………….………….. 8-6
• Conventional Schedule Control ……………………………………………………….. 8-8
o Optimizing the Slack ………………………………………………………….. 8-9
• Dynamic (Adaptive) Control …………………………………………..…………….. 8-11
o Forward looking Method …………………………………………………….. 8-11
o Two Way Looking Method (Cooperative) ………………………….……….. 8-14

vi
 Public Transportation Systems: Planning—General Ideas

Module 1: Planning—General Ideas

(Originally compiled by Eric Gonzales and Josh Pilachowski, January 2008)
(Last updated 9-22-2010)

Outline
• General course info (admin)
• Course substance and organization
• Transit Planning
o Definitions
o How to account for politics
o How to account for demand
o The shortsightedness tragedy
o Planning and design approaches

Course Substance and Organization

Goal of the Course

• What transit can and can’t do realistically
• How to do it (large/small scale)
• How to make it happen practically (focus on engineering)

Brief Explanation of Syllabus (see Appendix)

• The planning part of the course explores what is possible and how to do it with building
blocks of increasing realism and complexity; it shows the limits of transit systems and
gives you the tools to develop systematic plans.
• The management and operations part explores the “plumbing” of transit systems. This
includes management items that are hidden from the user’s view such as fleet
sizing/deployment and staffing plans, as well as more visible operational items such as
adaptive schedule control and traffic management.
• Planning ideas will be reinforced with two lab projects and five homework exercises.
Management/operations ideas will be reinforced with one lab project and two exercises.

Imagine public transit in a linear city. Many people travel between different origins and
destinations at different times (thin arrows in the time-space diagram below). Note how people
have to adapt their travel in space to the location of stops and in time to the scheduled service in
order to use transit (thick arrow), and how this adaptation could be reduced by providing more
transit services (more thick arrows). Unfortunately, the thick arrows cost money; and this

1-1
 Public Transportation Systems: Planning—General Ideas

competition between supply costs versus demand adaptation turns out always to be at the heart of
transit planning. It will be a central theme in this course.

x
User desired
stop

stop
city

transit
veh trip
adaptation

Transit Planning
Definitions
• Guideway – fixed parts of a transportation system, modeled as links and nodes
(infrastructure)
• Network – set of links and nodes, uni- or multi-modal
• Path – a sequence of links and nodes
• Origin/Destination – beginning and end of a path through a network
• Terminal – node where users can change modes
• Planning – art of developing long term/large scale schemes for the future
• Mobility – the distance people can reach in a given time (e.g. VKT/VHT)
• Accessibility – the opportunities people can reach in a given time (depends on land use)

We can improve accessibility by improving mobility and/or by changing the distribution of

opportunities. But if the opportunities are fixed in space, then a change in mobility is equivalent to
a change in accessibility.

As shown in the previous figure, there is a trade-off inherent in public transportation because users
give up flexibility (suffering a “level of service” penalty) for economy. To strike this balance
between level of service (LOS) and supply cost in networks for individual modes (e.g. highway,
bike-lanes, and sidewalks), planners can only change the infrastructure. But in collective
transportation, planners also have control over the vehicles’ routes and schedules.

1-2
 Public Transportation Systems: Planning—General Ideas

The goal of planning is to achieve efficiency, measured as a combination of LOS and supply costs.
Costs come in different forms, such as time, T, comfort, safety, and money, $, and should be
reduced to some common units. The result is called a generalized cost or disutility, which can be
defined both for individuals and groups, and is usually expressed as a linear combination of
component costs; e.g. for one individual experiencing time T and cost $ it could be:

Generalized Cost = βTT + β$$

How to Take into Account Politics

Note that βT and β$ will vary between individuals, so even though an individual may have a well-
defined generalized cost, the choice of appropriate weights to represent a diverse group is always a
political decision that cannot be resolved objectively.

Note too that transit systems involve costs to non-users—energy, pollution, noise, etc.—and that
since people also disagree about how these should be valued, they further complicate the decision-
making picture.

Clearly, we need to simplify things! (but without ignoring the effects of politics).

To this end, we will assume in this course that there is a political process that has converged to the
establishment of some standards, which would apply to all the non-monetary outputs of the transit
system; e.g.,

T – Door-to-door time (no more than a standard, T0)

E – Energy consumed (no more than E0)
M – Mobility (at least M0)
A – Accessibility (at least A0)

And our goal will be minimizing the cost, $, of meeting the standards; i.e.,

Mathematical Program (MP): min{ $: T ≤ T0; E ≤ E0; M ≥ M0; A ≥ A0 … }

Note how each standard is associated with an inequality constraining the value of the performance
output in question. Since these outputs are usually directly connected to 4 key measures of
aggregate motion: VHT, VKT, PHT, PKT, we can often reformulate the standards in terms of
passenger time (distance) and vehicle time (distance).

Alternatively, since all variables in this MP (both monetary and non-monetary), which we
collectively call y = ($, T, E, M, A), are functions of the system design, x, (i.e., the routes and
schedules used for the whole system) and the demand, α (which we assume to be given), we can
express the MP in terms of x and α.

1-3
 Public Transportation Systems: Planning—General Ideas

To make this formulation more concrete, let us define these relations by means of a vector-valued
function Fm:

y = Fm(x, α)

where,

y – performance outputs for the entire system (both monetary and non-monetary)
m – mode
x – design variables for the entire system
α – demand

We then look for the value of x that minimizes the $-component of y while the other components
satisfy the standards constraints. The result is as a best design, x*(α), which if implemented would
yield y*(α) = Fm(x*(α),α) = Gm(α). This function represents the best performance possible from
mode m with given demand α. We will, in this course, compare the Gm(α) for different modes.

To see all this more concretely, consider a simple transit system where all users are concentrated at
two points.

In this case we have:

x – frequency of service (a single design variable: buses/hr)
α – demand (a single demand variable: pax/hr)

Define now the components of Fm. We assume that each vehicle dispatch costs cf monetary units.
Thus we have:

$ = Fm$(x,α) = cf x/α [$/pax]

Note: we have defined $ as an average cost per passenger. We could instead have defined $ as the
total system cost per hour. Both definitions lead to the same result since they differ by a constant
factor: the demand, α. If we now assume that headways are constant but the schedule is not
advertised, we have:

T = FmT(x,α) = 1/x [hrs] (out of vehicle delay assumes ½ headway at origin and ½ headway
at the destination)

And finally, if each vehicle trip consumes ce joules of energy we also have:

E = ce x/α [joules/pax]

1-4
 Public Transportation Systems: Planning—General Ideas

If the political process had ignored energy and simply yielded a standard T0 for T, and if we choose
the monetary units so cf = 1, the MP would then be:

min{ x/α: 1/x ≤ T0 }.

Note that the OF is minimized by the smallest x possible. Thus, the constraint must be binding,
and we have:

x* = 1/T0

Therefore the “optimum” monetary cost per passenger would be:

$* ≡ Gm$(α) = 1/(αT0)

We call the above the “standards approach” to finding efficient plans.

There is another approach, which we call the “Lagrangian approach.” It involves choosing some
shadow prices, β, and minimizing a generalized cost with these “prices” without any constraints.
Although the selection of prices cannot be made objectively, one can always find prices that will
meet a set of standards (see your CE 252 notes). So the Lagrangian approach is equivalent to the
standards approach. For example, we can formulate:

minx { $+βT ≡ x/α + β(1/x) }

The solution is:

x* = αβ

You can verify that the “standards” solution (x* = 1/T0 and $* = x*/α = 1/(αT0) is achieved for
β = (1 / T02 )(1 / α ) . So no matter what standard you choose, there is a price that achieves it.

In summary, there are 2 approaches to obtain low cost designs that satisfy policy aims:

1. Standards: min { $ s.t. T ≤ T0, E ≤ E0… }

This minimizes the dollar cost subject to policy constraints, e.g. for trip time, energy
consumption and possibly other outputs. Usually, as shown in the example, constraints
become binding when solved → T = T0, E = E0

2. Lagrangian: min { $(x,α) + βT(T(x,α)) + βE(E(x,α)) }

1-5
 Public Transportation Systems: Planning—General Ideas

This minimizes the generalized cost, and gives the same solution as the standards method
when suitable shadow prices, βT and βE, are chosen. The shadow prices can be found by
solving the Lagrangian problem for some prices, finding the optimum T and E and then
adjusting the prices until T and E meet the standards. In simple cases, such as the above
example, this can be done analytically in closed form.

How to Account for Demand: Some Comments about Demand Uncertainty and Endogeneity

So far, we have assumed that the demand, α, is given, and critics could say that this is not realistic.
However, if we are lucky and the design one provides happens to be optimum for the demand that
materializes, then the issue is moot. Suppose we design x for a chosen level of demand, α, that is
expected to materialize at some point in the future. Normally, we expect realized demand to
change with time, and for a well-designed system that provides improved service this demand
should be increasing. Then, the question of whether the system design is optimal in reality (given
that we assumed a demand α0) is less a question of if, but of when, since the demand α0 will
eventually be realized. Furthermore, we will learn later in the course that the cost associated with
a design, x*, that is optimal for α0 is also near-optimal for a broad range of values of α (within a
factor of 2 of α0). Thus, if the realized demand does not change quickly with time, the system
design is likely to produce near optimal costs for a long period of time.

Furthermore, we should remember that demand is difficult to predict in the long run. So, building
complicated models that endogenize α in order to predict precise values is not a worthwhile
activity in my opinion. Rough estimates of future demand are sufficient for design purposes. This
is not to say that a vision for the future is not important; only that it does not need to be anticipated
precisely. The following example illustrates what happens if one ignores the vision.

The Shortsightedness Tragedy

This example shows that when demand changes with time, then incrementally chasing optimality
with short-term gain objectives in mind can lead us to a much worse state than if we design from
the start with foresight and long term objectives.

Now, consider the investment decisions for a system with potential for 2 modes:

automobile – divisible capacity with cost per unit capacity, cg

subway – indivisible and very large capacity with cost for a very large capacity, c0

Politicians, who make decisions about how much money to invest in transportation infrastructure,
tend to focus on short-run returns because of the relatively short political cycle. If elections for
city leaders occur every couple of years, then politicians have incentives to look at costs only in
the near future. This can be “tragic.”

Suppose that demand for transportation in a city is growing over time and is expected to continue
growing long into the future (this tends to be the case in nearly all cities around the developing

1-6
 Public Transportation Systems: Planning—General Ideas

world). Suppose too that the goal is supplying (at all times) enough capacity to meet demand. The
politicians must decide whether to invest a large amount of money, c0, in digging tunnels and
laying track for a subway that will have enormous capacity to handle demand for decades into the
future or to incrementally expand road infrastructure to handle the demand αi expected over the
next political cycle, i. This would cost ci = cgαi monetary units and will be the decision made if ci
< c0 (assuming cost is the main political issue.) The result of this “periodic review” decision
making is shown by this figure:

$
periodic review based on
political cycles $auto(t)

$subway(t)

c0

ci = cgαi

now t’
t

If the decision rule for investing in infrastructure is to chose the lowest cost over the next political
cycle and demand increases gradually, “automobile” will always win because with gradual
increases in demand: ci < c0. In the long run, however, the cost of investment in automobile
infrastructure is unbounded. Had decisions been made with a view to the long run

(t > t’), the subway (i.e. the less costly investment) would have been chosen.

Another point pertaining to “the future demand vision” is that systems often create their own
demand; and this should be recognized (even exploited) when developing design targets. Planning
actions that have long-term consequences should be made with a long-term horizon and long term
vision.

Planning and Design Approaches

Comparative Analyses – This is planning by looking at what similar cities have done and trying to
copy it. Although this is useful, “safe” and often done, it can exclude opportunities to come up
with innovative solutions that may only be appropriate for the case of concern. (We will not do
this in this course; we will instead create designs from scratch, systematically.)

1-7
Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
 Chapter Seventeen.
The House of the Wicked.

Next afternoon Liane and Zertho strolled up to Cimiez

together to pay a call upon a Parisian family named
Bertholet, who lived in one of those fine white houses high
up on the Boulevard de Cimiez, and who had recently
accepted the Prince’s hospitality.

As they turned from the dusty Boulevard Carabacel, and

commenced the long ascent where the tree-lined road runs
straight up to the glaring white façade of the Excelsior
Regina Hotel, Zertho expressed a fear that she would be
fatigued ere they reached their destination, and urged her
to take a cab.

“I’m not at all tired,” she assured him, nevertheless halting

a second, flushed and warm, to regain breath. “The day is
so beautiful that a walk will do me no end of good.”

“It’s a dreadful bore to have to toil up and call on these

people, but I suppose I must be polite to them. They are
worth knowing. Bertholet is, I hear, a well-known banker in
Paris.”

Liane smiled. The patronising air with which her companion

spoke of his newly-found friends always amused her.

“Besides,” he added, “we must now make the best of the

time we have in Nice. We leave to-morrow, or the day
after.”

“So sudden!” she exclaimed, surprised. “I thought we

should remain for another fortnight or three weeks. The
weather is so delightful.”

“I have arranged it with the Captain,” he said briefly. “Do

you regret leaving?”

“How can I regret?” she asked, glancing at him and raising

her brows slightly. “How can I regret when the place, so fair
in itself, is to me so hateful? No, I’m glad for several
reasons that we are leaving.”

She recollected at that moment what George had told her.

Mariette Lepage was near them. She remembered, too, the
fierce expression of hatred in that pair of angry eyes shining
through the mask.

“Yes,” he said at length, “one can have too much of a good

thing, and sometimes it is even possible to have too much
of the Riviera. I have the satisfaction at least of having
succeeded in obtaining a footing in society.” And he laughed
as he added, “A year ago I was a down-at-heel adventurer,
almost too shabby to obtain admittance at Monte Carlo,
while to-day I’m welcomed everywhere, even among the
most exclusive set. And why? Merely because I have money
and impudence.”

“Yes,” Liane admitted, with a touch of sorrow. “This is

indeed a curious world. There is a good deal of truth in the
saying that a man is too often judged by his coat.”

“And a woman by her dress,” he added quickly. “When you

are Princess d’Auzac, you will find that other women will
crowd around you and pet you, and declare you are the
most beautiful girl of the year—as, of course, you are—all
because you have wealth and a title. They like to speak to
their friends of ‘My friend the Princess So-and-So.’”
“You are very complimentary,” she answered, coldly. “I have
no desire to excite either the admiration or envy of other
women.”

“Because you have never yet fully realised how beautiful

you are,” he answered.

“Oh yes, I have. Every woman knows the exact worth of her
good looks.”

“Some over-estimate them, no doubt,” he said, with a

laugh. “But you have always under-estimated yours. If the
Captain had chosen he could have already married you to a
dozen different men, all wealthy and distinguished.”

“Dear old dad loved me too well to sacrifice my happiness

for money,” she said, climbing slowly the steep hill.

“Yet you declare that you are doing so by marrying me,” he

observed, his eyes fixed upon the ground.

“I am only marrying you because you compel me,” she

answered, huskily. “You know that.”

“Why do you hate me?” he cried, dismayed. “I have surely

done my best to render your life here happy? In the past I
admired your grace and your beauty, but because of my
poverty I dared not ask the Captain for you. Now that I
have the means to give you the luxury which a woman like
yourself must need, you spurn my love, and—”

“Your love!” she cried, with a gesture of disgust, her eyes

flashing angrily. “Do not speak to me of love. You may tell
other women that you love them, but do not lie to me!”

“It is no lie,” he answered. She had never spoken so frankly

before, and her manner showed a fierce determination
which surprised him.

“You have a manner so plausible that you can utter

falsehoods so that they appear as gospel truth,” she said.
“Remember, however, that you and my father were once
fellow-adventurers, and that years ago I thoroughly gauged
your character and found it exactly as superficial and
unprincipled as it is now.”

“The past is forgotten,” he snapped. “It is useless to throw

into my face facts and prejudices which I am striving to live
down.”

“No,” she cried. “The past is not forgotten, otherwise you

would not compel me to become your wife. How can you
say that the past is buried, when at this moment you hold
me beneath your hateful thrall, merely because my face and
my figure please you, merely because you desire that I
should become your wife?”

“With you at my side I shall, I trust, lead a better life,” he

said, calmed by her rebuff.

“It is useless to cant in that manner,” she exclaimed, turning

upon him fiercely. “In you, the man I have always
mistrusted as knavish and unscrupulous, I can never place
confidence. The mean, shabby, tricks you have served men
who have been your friends are in themselves sufficient
proof of your utter lack of good-will, and show me that you
are dead to all honour. Without confidence there can be no
love.”

“I have promised before Heaven to make you happy,” he

answered.

“Ah, no,” she said, in a choking voice of bitter reproach.

“Speak not of holy things, you, whose heart is so black. If
you would make your peace with God give me back my
liberty, my life, before it is too late.”

Her face was pale, her lips were dry, and she panted as she
spoke.

But they had gained the gate of the villa where they were to
call, and pushing it open he held it back with a low bow for
her to pass. Her grey eyes, so full of grief and despair, met
his for an instant, and she saw he was inexorable. Then she
passed in up to the door, and a few minutes later found
herself in the salon chatting with her voluble hostess, while
Zertho sat with Madame’s two smart daughters, both true
Parisiennes in manner, dress, and speech.

“We only heard to-day of your engagement to the Prince,”

Madame Bertholet was saying in French. “We must
congratulate you. I’m sure I wish you every happiness.”

“Thank you,” she said, with a forced smile. “It is extremely

good of you.”

“And when and where do you marry?”

“In Brussels, in about three weeks,” Liane answered,

striving to preserve an outward appearance of happiness. It
was, however, but a sorry attempt. From the windows of
their salon Madame Bertholet and her daughters had
noticed the strange imploring look upon Liane’s face as they
had approached the gate, and had wondered.

Yet when she had entered she had sparkled with fun and
vivacity, and it was only the mention of marriage which had
disarmed her.

“After Brussels you will, of course, go to your new home in

Luxembourg,” said Madame. “Have you seen it?”
Liane replied in the negative.

“I happen to know Luxembourg very well. My brother,

strangely enough, is one of the Prince’s tenants.”

“Oh, then, you of course know my future home,” exclaimed

Liane, suddenly interested.

“Yes, very well. The château is a fine old place perched high
up, overlooking a beautiful fertile valley,” her hostess
replied. “I once went there a few years ago, when the old
Prince was alive, and I well remember being charmed by
the romantic quaintness of its interior. Inside, one is back
three centuries; with oak panelling, old oak furniture, great
old-fashioned fireplaces with cosy corners, and narrow
windows, through which long ago archers shed their flights
of arrows. There is a dungeon, too; and a dark gloomy
prison-chamber in one of the round turrets. It is altogether
a most delightful old place.”

“Gloomy, I suppose?” observed Liane thoughtfully.

“Well, life amid such old-world surroundings as those could

scarcely be quite as bright or enjoyable as Nice or Paris, but
it is nevertheless a magnificent and well-preserved relic of a
bygone age. Without doubt it is one of the finest of feudal
châteaux in Europe.”

“Are any of the rooms modern?”

“None,” Madame replied. “It seems to have been the hobby

of the Princes d’Auzac to preserve intact its ancient
character. You will be envied as the possessor of such a fine
old place. I shall be delighted to come and see you when
you are settled—if I may.”
“Certainly. I, too, shall be delighted,” Liane answered
mechanically. “In a place like that one will require a
constant supply of visitors to make life at all endurable. It
is, I fear, one of those grey, forbidding-looking old places as
full of rats as it is of traditions.”

“I don’t know about the rats,” her hostess answered,

laughing heartily. “But there are, I know, many quaint and
curious legends connected with the place. My brother told
me some.”

“What were they about?”

“Oh, about the tyranny of the d’Auzacs who, in the middle

ages, ravaged the Eiffel and the Moselle valley, and more
than once attacked the town of Trêves itself. In those days
the name of d’Auzac was synonymous of all that was cruel
and brutal; but the family have become civilised since then,
and,” she added, looking towards Zertho, who was laughing
with her two daughters, “the Prince scarcely looks a person
to be feared.”

“No,” observed Liane, with a forced smile. To her also the

name of d’Auzac was synonymous of cunning, brutality, and
unscrupulousness. She pictured to herself the great
mountain stronghold, a grim, grey relic of an age of
barbarism, the lonely dreary place peopled by ghosts of an
historic past, that was to be her home, in which she was to
live with this man who held her enthralled. Then she
shuddered.

Her hostess noticed it, wondered, but attributed it to the

draught from the open window. To her it was inconceivable
that any girl could refuse Prince Zertho’s offer of marriage.
He was one of the most eligible of men, his polished
manner had made him a favourite everywhere, and one
heard his wealth discussed wherever one visited. Either of
her own daughters would, she knew, be only too pleased to
become Princess.

Liane, although nothing of a coquette, was nevertheless

well enough versed in the ways of the world to be tactful
when occasion required, and at this moment strenuously
strove not to betray her world-weariness. Although
consumed by grief and despair she nevertheless smiled with
feigned contentment, and a moment later with an air so gay
and flippant that none would guess the terrible dread which
was wearing out her young life, joined in the light amusing
chatter with Madame’s daughters.

“We saw you at Monte Carlo last night,” one of the girls
exclaimed, suddenly, addressing Zertho.

“Did you?” he answered, with a start. “I really saw nothing

of you.”

“We were quite close to you,” observed her sister, “You were
sitting with Captain Brooker, and were having quite a run of
good fortune when, suddenly, you both jumped up and
disappeared like magic. We tried to attract your attention,
but you would not glance in our direction. Before we could
get round to you you had gone. Why did you leave so
quickly?”

“We wanted to catch our train,” Zertho answered, a lie ever

ready upon his lips. “We had only three minutes, and just
managed to scramble in.”

“Did you notice a fine, handsome-looking woman at the

table, a woman in blue dress trimmed with silver?” asked
Madame Bertholet.
Zertho again started. In a second, however, he recovered
his self-possession.

“I am afraid I did not,” he replied with a smile.

“I was too intent upon the game. Besides,” and he paused,

glancing at Liane, “female beauty ought not to attract me
now.”

They all laughed in chorus.

“Of course not,” Madame agreed. “But the woman wore

such a gay costume, and was altogether so reckless that I
thought you might have noticed her. Everybody was looking
at her. I was told that she is a well-known gambler who has
won huge sums at various times, and is invariably so lucky
that she is known to habitués of the table as ‘The Golden
Hand.’”

“Everything her hand touches turns to gold—eh?” Zertho

hazarded. “I only wish my fingers possessed the same
potency. It must be delightful.”

“But she’s not at all a desirable acquaintance, if all I hear is

true,” Madame observed. “Do you know nothing of her by
repute?”

“I fancy I’ve heard the sobriquet before,” he replied. “I’m

sorry I didn’t notice her. Did she win?”

Liane and the Prince exchanged significant glances. “Yes,

while we watched she won, at a rough estimate, nearly
twenty thousand francs,” one of the girls said.

“A friend who accompanied us told us all about her,”

Madame observed. “Hers has been a most remarkable
career. It appears that at one time she was well-known in
Paris as a singer at La Scala, and the music halls in the
Champs Elysées, but some mysterious circumstance caused
her to leave Paris hurriedly. She was next heard of in New
York, where she was singing at the music halls, and it was
said that she returned to France at the country’s expense,
but that, on being brought before the tribunal, the charge
against her could not be substantiated, and she was
therefore released. Subsequently, after a strange and
chequered life, she turned up about four years ago at Monte
Carlo, and became so successful that very soon she had
amassed a considerable sum of money. To the attendants
and those who frequent the Casino she is a mystery. For
sheer recklessness no woman who comes to the tables has
her equal; yet she is invariably alone, plays at her own
discretion without consulting anyone, and with a thoroughly
business-like air, speaks to scarcely anybody, and always
rises from the table at eleven, whether winning or losing.
Indeed, ‘The Golden Hand’ is altogether a most remarkable
person.”

“Curious,” observed Zertho, reflectively. “I wish I had

noticed her. You say she was sitting at our table?”

“Yes,” answered one of the girls. “She sat straight before

you, and because you were winning she watched you
closely several times.”

“Watched me!” he exclaimed, dismayed.

“Yes,” answered the girl, with a laugh. “Why, you speak as if

she possessed the evil eye, or something! She’s smart and
good-looking certainly, but I don’t think Liane need fear in
her a rival.”

“Scarcely,” he answered, with a forced smile. But the

alarming truth possessed him that Mariette had
surreptitiously watched Brooker and himself before they had
discovered her presence. He reproached himself bitterly for
having gone to Monte Carlo that night, yet gambler that he
was he had been unable to resist the temptation of the
tables once again ere they left the Riviera.

But the woman known as “The Golden Hand” had watched

them both, and by this time most probably knew where
they were living. Neither he nor the Captain had any idea
that Mariette Lepage still hovered about the tables, or they
would certainly never have set foot inside the Principality.

Liane in her cool summer-like gown sat in a low wicker

lounge-chair and listened to this description of the notorious
woman without uttering a word. She dared not trust herself
to speak lest she should divulge the secret within her
breast. She had grown uncomfortable, and only breathed
more freely when, ten minutes later, they made their adieux
and began to descend the Boulevard back to Nice.

“So your old friend Mariette has seen you!” she exclaimed,
as soon as they had walked twenty paces from the house.

“Yes,” he snapped. “Another illustration of my accursed luck.

The sooner we leave Nice the better.”

“Very well,” she answered, with a weary sigh. She did not
tell him that she had already ascertained from George
Stratfield that “The Golden Hand” had been to Nice.

“We must leave for Paris,” he said briefly. “It will not be wise
to run too great a risk. If she chooses she can make things
extremely unpleasant.”

“For you?”

“No,” he answered, turning quickly towards her. “For you.”

She held her breath; the colour fled from her cheeks. He
lost no opportunity of reminding her of the terrible past,
and as he glanced at her and watched the effect of his
words he saw with satisfaction that he still held her in a
thraldom of fear.

“I thought she had left France,” he continued, as if to

himself. “I had no idea that she was still here. Fortune must
have been kind to her of late.”

Liane said nothing. She had not failed to notice his anxiety
when Mademoiselle Bertholet had explained how Mariette
had watched him, and she wondered whether, after all, he
feared this remarkable woman who had played such a
prominent part in their past lives; this notorious gambler
who was her bitterest foe.

She was already tired of Nice, and recognised that to

remain longer was only to endanger herself. The Nemesis
she had so long dreaded seemed to be closing upon her.

In the Boulevard Carabacel they took an open cab to drive

home, but while crossing the Place opposite the Post Office
they encountered George Stratfield walking. As he passed
he raised his hat to Liane, and she greeted him with a smile
of sadness.

Zertho noticed the young Englishman, and his bearded face

grew dark.

“What! So your lover is also here!” he exclaimed in surprise,

turning to catch another glance of the well set-up figure in
light grey tweed. She had carefully concealed from him and
from her father the fact that George had come to Nice.

“Yes,” she answered simply, looking straight before her.

“Why did you hide the truth from me?” he demanded
angrily.

“Because the knowledge that he was here could not have

benefited you,” she answered.

“You have met him, of course, clandestinely,” he said,

regarding her with knit brows.

“I do not deny it.”

“And you have told him, I hope, that you are to be my

wife?”

“I have,” she sighed.

“Then you must not meet again. You understand,” he

exclaimed fiercely. “Send the fellow back to London.”

She bit her lip, but made no answer. Her eyes were filled
with tears. Without any further words they drove rapidly
along the Promenade, at that hour chill after the fading of
the sun, until the cab with its jingling bells pulled up before
the Pension, and Liane alighted. For an instant she turned
to him, bowing, then entered the villa.

Her father was out, and on going into her own room she
locked the door, cast down her sunshade, tossed her hat
carelessly aside, and pushing her hair from her fevered
brow with both hands, stood at the open window gazing
aimlessly out upon the sea. A sense of utter loneliness crept
over her forlorn heart. She was, she told herself, entirely
friendless, now that her father desired her to marry Zertho.
Hers had been at best a cheerless, melancholy life, yet it
was now without either hope, happiness, or love. The sea
stretching before her was like her own future, impenetrable,
a great grey expanse, dismal and limitless, without a single
gleam of brightness, growing every instant darker, more
obscure, more mysterious.

Thoughts of the man she loved so fondly surged through

her troubled mind. She remembered how sad and
melancholy he had looked when she had passed him by;
how bitterly he had smiled when she bowed to him. The
memory of his dear face brought back to her all the terrible
past, all the hopelessness of the future, all the hideousness
of the truth.

She sank beside her bed, and burying her face in the white
coverlet gave way to her emotion, shedding a torrent of
tears.

The dusk deepened, the twilight faded and darkness fell,

still she sobbed on, murmuring constantly the name of the
one man on earth she loved.

A low tapping at the door aroused her, and thinking it was

her father she hastily dried her eyes and stumbled blindly
across the dark room to admit him. It was, however, the
Provençal femme de chambre, who handed her a note,
saying in her quaint patois—

“A letter for Mademoiselle. It was brought a minute or two

ago by a man who gave it to me, with strict injunctions to
give it only into Mademoiselle’s own hands.”

“Thank you, Justine,” she answered, in a low hoarse voice,

then, closing the door again, she lit a candle, and
mechanically tearing open the note found that it was dated
from the Villa Fortunée, Monaco, and signed by Mariette. In
it the woman who was her enemy made a strange request.
She first asked that she should say no word to her father or
to Zertho regarding the receipt of the note or inform them
of her address, and then, continuing, she wrote: “To-
morrow, at two o’clock, call upon George Stratfield, who is,
as you know, staying at the Grand Hotel, and he will bring
you over here to my house. It is imperative that I should
see you. Fear nothing, but come. George is my friend, and
he will be awaiting you.”
 Chapter Eighteen.
Sinned Against.

Liane’s first inclination was not to comply with the request,

for knowing the crafty nature of this woman, she feared
that the words had been written merely to place her off her
guard. Yet immediately after luncheon at the Villa Chevrier
on the following day she declared her intention of going
down to the English library to get some books, and leaving
her father and the Prince smoking over their liqueurs, went
out upon the Promenade. As soon, however, as she was out
of sight of the windows of the villa, she hailed a passing cab
and drove to the Grand Hotel, where she found George
sitting in a wicker-chair in the doorway, consoling himself by
smoking a cigarette and awaiting her.

“You have come at last,” he cried, approaching the carriage.

“Don’t get out. We will drive straight to the station,” and
stepping in, he gave the man directions.

“What does this mean?” inquired Liane, eagerly.

“I cannot tell its meaning, dearest,” he answered. “I merely

received a note, saying that you would call for me on your
way to Monaco.”

“Have you no idea why she desires to see both of us?”

“None whatever,” he replied.

“You have found her,” she observed in a deep, earnest tone.

“In my letter she says that you are her friend. You don’t
know her true character, I suppose,” his well-beloved added,
looking earnestly into his eyes. “If you did you would not
visit her.”

“She lives in an air of the most severe respectability,” he

said. “I dined at the Villa Fortunée the night before last, and
found her an extremely pleasant hostess.”

She smiled. Then, while driving along the Avenue de la Gare

to the station she told him of Mariette’s past in similar
words to those used by Madame Bertholet. He sat listening
eagerly, but a dark shadow crossed his features when, in
conclusion, she added, “Such, unfortunately, is the woman
who is to be bribed to marry you.”

They alighted, obtained their tickets, crossed the platform,

and entered the rapide. It was crowded with people going to
Monte Carlo, and the tunnels rendered the journey hot,
dusty and unpleasant. Nevertheless the distance was not
far, and when half-an-hour later they were ascending the
steep winding way which led up to the rock of Monaco,
Liane’s heart sank within her, for she feared that she was
acting unwisely.

“It is very remarkable that Mariette should have written to

us both in this manner,” George was saying as he strolled
on beside the pale-faced graceful girl. “Evidently she desires
to consult us upon some matter of urgency. Perhaps it
concerns us both. Who knows?”

“It may,” she answered mechanically. “She is not, however,

a person to trust. Women of her character have, alas!
neither feeling nor honour.”

“Is she, then, so notoriously bad?” he asked in surprise.

“You know who and what I am,” she answered, turning to

him, her grave grey eyes fixed upon his. “I have been
forced against my inclination to frequent the gambling-
rooms through months, nay years, and I knew Mariette
Lepage long ago as the most vicious of all the women who
hovered about the tables in search of dupes.”

By her manner he saw that she was annoyed, and jealous

that he should have visited and dined with this woman so
strangely referred to in his father’s will, and he hastened to
re-assure her that there was but one woman in the world
for him.

“Then you will not marry her?” she cried eagerly. “Do not,
for my sake. If you knew all you would rather cast the
money into yonder sea than become her husband.”

“Well,” he said, “it is imperative that she should be offered

the bribe to become my wife. If she refuses I shall gain fifty
thousand pounds. I have thought of buying her refusal by
offering to divide equally with her the sum I shall obtain.”

“Excellent!” she cried, enthusiastically. “I never thought of

that. If she will do so the cruel punishment your father
intended will be turned to pleasure, and you will be twenty-
five thousand pounds the richer.”

“I will approach her,” he said, after brief hesitation. “You

know, darling, that I love you far too well to contemplate
marriage with any other woman.”

“But remember, I can never become your wife,” she

observed huskily, her eyes behind her veil filled to
overflowing with tears. “I am debarred from that.”

“Ah! no,” he cried, “don’t say that. Let us hope on.”

“All hope within me is dead,” she answered gloomily. “I care

nothing now for the future. In a few brief days we are
leaving here, and I shall say farewell, George, never again
to meet you.”

“You always speak so strangely and so dismally,” he said.

“You will never tell me anything of the reason you are so
irrevocably bound to Zertho. In the old days at Stratfield
you always took me into your confidence.”

“Yes, yes,” she answered, quickly. “I would tell you

everything if I could—but I dare not. You would hate me.”

“Hate you. Why?”

“You could no longer grasp my hand or kiss my lips,” she

faltered. “No, you must not, you shall not know, for I could
not bear that you of all men should spurn me, leave me,
and remember me only with loathing. I could not bear it. I
would rather kill myself.”

She was trembling, her breast rose and fell with the
exertion of the steep ascent, and her face was blanched and
haggard. Her attitude, whenever he referred to Zertho,
always mystified and puzzled him. Had she not spoken
vaguely of some strange crime?

Yet he loved her with all the strength of his being, and the
sight of her terrible anxiety and dread pained him beyond
measure. He was ready and willing to do anything to assist
and liberate her from the mysterious thraldom, nevertheless
she preserved a silence dogged and complete. He strove to
discern a way out of the complicated situation, but could
discover none.

“Have you ever been to the Villa Fortunée before?” he asked

presently, after a long and painful silence, when they had
crossed the sunny square before the Prince’s palace, and
were strolling along the road which skirted the rock with the
small blue bay to their left and the white houses of Monte
Carlo gleaming beyond.

“No,” she answered. “I had no idea Mariette, ‘The Golden

Hand,’ lived here. She used always to live at the little bijou
villa in the Rue Cotta at Nice.”

“The Golden Hand!” he exclaimed, laughing. “Why do you

call her that?”

“It is the name she has earned at the tables because of her
extraordinary good fortune,” Liane answered. “Her winnings
at trente-et-quarante are said to have been greater perhaps
than any other player during the past few years.”

At that moment the road turned sharply, almost at right

angles, and Liane found herself before the great white
house where lived the notorious gambler, the woman whose
powdered, painted face every habitué of Monte Carlo knew
so well, and whose luck was the envy of them all.

She read the name of the villa upon the marble tablet, and
for a moment hesitated and held back, fearing to meet face
to face the woman she held in fear. But George had already
entered the gateway and ascended the steps, and she felt
impelled to follow, a few moments later taking a seat in the
cool handsome salon where the flowers diffused a sweet
subtle perfume, and the light was softly tempered by the
closed sun-shutters.

Liane and her lover sat facing each other, the silence being
complete save for the swish of the sea as it broke ever and
anon upon the brown rocks deep below. A moment later,
however, there was a sound of the opening and shutting of
doors, and with a frou-frou of silk there entered “The
Golden Hand.”
She wore an elegant dress of pale mauve trimmed with
velvet, and as she came forward into the room a smile of
welcome played upon her lips, but George thought she
looked older and more haggard than when he had visited
her only two days before.

Closing the door quietly behind her, she crossed almost

noiselessly to where they were seated, and sinking upon a
settee expressed pleasure at receiving their visit.

“I was not exactly certain whether you would come, you

know,” she exclaimed, with a coquettish laugh. “I was afraid
Liane would refuse.”

“You told me that you were her friend,” he said.

“And that was the entire truth,” she answered.

Liane faced her, her countenance pale, her lips parted. She
had held back in fear when this woman had entered, but
the calm expression and pleasant smile had now entirely
disarmed her suspicions. Yet she feared lest this woman
whom she had known in the old days, should divulge the
secret she had kept from her lover. George, the man she
adored, was, she knew, fast slipping away from her. On the
one hand she was forced to marry Zertho, while on the
other this very woman, whom she feared, was to be bribed
to accept her lover as husband. Liane looked into her face
and tried to read her thoughts. But her countenance had
grown cold and mysterious.

“You were not always my friend,” she said at last, in a low,

strained tone.

“No, not always,” the woman admitted, in English. “I have

seldom been generous towards my own sex. I was, it is
true, Liane, until recently, your enemy,” she added, in a
sympathetic tone. “I should be now if it were not for recent
events.”

“You intend, then, to prove my friend,” Liane gasped

excitedly, half-rising from her chair. “You—you will say
nothing.”

“On the contrary, I shall speak the truth.”

“Ah, no,” she wailed. “No, spare me that. Think! Think!

surely my lot is hard enough to bear! Already I have lost
George, the man I love.”

“Your loss is my gain,” Mariette Lepage said slowly. “You

have lost a lover, while I have found a husband.”

“And you will marry him—you?” she cried, dismayed.

“I know what are your thoughts,” the other said. “My

reputation is unenviable—eh?”

Liane did not answer; her lover sat rigid and silent.

“Well,” went on the woman known at the tables as “The

Golden Hand,” “I cannot deny it. All that you see here, my
house, my furniture, my pictures, the very clothes I wear, I
have won fairly at the tables, because—well, because I am,
I suppose, one of the fortunate ones. Others sit and ruin
themselves by unwise play, while I sit beside them and
prosper. Because of that, I am pointed out by men and
women as a kind of extraordinary species, and shunned by
all save the professional players to whom you and I belong.
But,” she added, gazing meaningly at Liane, “you know my
past as well as I know yours.”

The words caused her to turn pale as death, while her

breath came and went quickly. She was in momentary
dread lest a single word of the terrible truth she was
striving to hide should involuntarily escape her.

“Yes,” Liane said, “I knew you well when I went daily to the
Casino, and have often envied you, for while my father lost
and lost you invariably won and crammed handsful of notes
into your capacious purse. At first I envied you, but soon I
grew to hate you.”

“You hated me, because even into my hardened heart love

had found its way,” she said reproachfully.

“I hated you because I knew that you loved only gold. I had
seen sufficient of you to know that you had no higher
thought than of the chances of the red or the black. You had
been aptly nicknamed ‘The Golden Hand.’”

“And I, too, envied you,” the other said. “I envied you your
grace and your beauty; yet often I felt sorry for you. You
seemed so jaded and world-weary, although so young, that
it was a matter of surprise that they gave you your carte at
the Bureau.”

“Now, strangely enough, we are rivals,” Liane observed.

“Only because you are beneath the thrall of one who holds
you in his power,” Mariette answered. “You love each other
so fervently that I could never be your rival, even if you
were free.”

“But, alas! I am not free,” she said, in deep despondency,

her eyes downcast, her head resting upon her hand.

“True,” said the other, shrugging her shoulders.

“Circumstances have combined to weave about you a web
in which you have become enmeshed. You are held by
bonds which, alone and unassisted, you cannot break
asunder.”

Liane, overcome with emotion she could no longer restrain,

covered her face with her hands and burst into a torrent of
tears. In an instant her lover was beside her, stroking her
hair fondly, uttering words of sympathy and tenderness,
and endeavouring to console her.

Mariette Lepage sat erect, motionless, silent, watching

them.

“Ah!” she said slowly at length, “I know how fondly you love
each other. I have myself experienced the same grief, the
same bitterness as that which is rending your hearts at this
moment, even though I am believed to be devoid of every
passion, of every sentiment, and of every womanly feeling.”

“Let me go!” Liane exclaimed, in a voice broken by sobs,

rising unsteadily from her chair. “I—I cannot bear it.”

“No, remain,” the woman said in a firm tone, a trifle harsher

than before. “I asked you here to-day because I wished to
speak to you. I invited the man you love, because it is but
just that he should hear what I have to say.”

“Ah!” she sobbed bitterly. “You will expose me—you who

have only just declared that you are my friend!”

“Be patient,” the other answered. “I know your fear. You

dread that I shall tell a truth which you dare not face.”

She hung her head, sinking back rigidly into her chair with
lips compressed. George stood watching her, like a man in a
dream. He saw her crushed and hopeless beneath the
terrible load upon her conscience, held speechless by some
all-consuming terror, trembling like an aspen because she
knew this woman intended to divulge her secret.

With all his soul he loved her, yet in those painful moments
the gulf seemed to widen between them. Her white haggard
face told him of the torture that racked her mind.

“Speak, Liane,” he cried in a low intense tone. “What is it

you fear? Surely the truth may be uttered?”

“No, no!” she cried wildly, struggling to her feet. “No, let me
leave before she tells you. I knew instinctively that, after
all, she was not my friend.”

“Hear me before you judge,” Mariette exclaimed firmly.

“Cannot you place faith in one who declares herself ready to

assist you?” he added.

She shook her head, holding her breath the while, and
glaring at him with eyes full of abject fear.

“Why?”

“Ah! don’t ask me, George,” she murmured, with her chin
sunk upon the lace on her breast. “I am the most wretched
woman on earth, because I have wilfully deceived you. I
had no right to love you; no right to let you believe that I
was pure and good; no right to allow you to place faith in
me. You will hate me when you know all.”

“For what reason?” he cried, dismayed.

“My life is overshadowed by evil,” she answered vaguely, in

a despairing voice. “I have sinned before God, and must
bear the punishment.”
“There is forgiveness for those who repent,” the woman
observed slowly, a hard, cold expression upon her face, as
she watched the desperate girl trembling before her.

“There is none for me,” she cried in utter despondency,

haunted by fear, and bursting again into tears. “None! I can
hope for no forgiveness.”

At that instant the door of the room was opened, and two
persons entered unannounced. George and Liane were
standing together in the centre of the saloon, while Mariette
was still seated with her back to the door, so that the new
comers did not at first notice her presence.

The men were Brooker and Zertho.

“We have followed you here with your lover,” exclaimed the
Prince angrily, addressing Liane. “We saw you driving to the
station together, and watched you. We—”

“The Golden Hand” hearing the voice, turned, and springing

to her feet faced them.

“Mariette!” Zertho gasped, blanched and aghast, the words

dying from his pale lips. In their eagerness to follow Liane
and George they had entered the villa, not knowing that
therein dwelt the woman from whom they intended on the
morrow to fly.
 Chapter Nineteen.
The Miniature.

Zertho gave her a single glance full of hatred, then, with a

gesture of impatience after a few quick words, turned to
make his exit. As he did so, however, he found himself face
to face with a man who, standing in the doorway, resolutely
barred his passage.

He stood glaring at him as one stupefied. The man was Max

Richards.

“No,” the latter said. “Now that you have chosen to call here
uninvited it is at least polite to remain at the invitation of
your hostess.”

“Let me pass!” he cried threateningly.

“I shall not!” Richards answered with firmness, his back to

the half-closed door, while Brooker stood watching the
scene, himself full of fear and dismay.

“This is a conspiracy!” Zertho exclaimed, his trembling

hands clenched, his face livid.

“Listen!” Mariette cried, her cheeks flushed with excitement

as she stepped boldly forward and faced him. “This is a
counterplot only to combat your dastardly intrigue. The
innocent shall no longer suffer for the sins of the guilty.”

“The guilty!” he echoed, with an insolent laugh. “You mean

yourself!”
“I am not without blame, I admit,” she answered quickly,
her flashing eyes darting him an angry look. “Nevertheless,
I have to-day determined to make atonement; to end for
ever this conspiracy of silence.” Then, turning to Liane, who
was standing whitefaced and aghast, she said, “First, before
I speak, it will be necessary for you to make confession.
Explain to George of what nature is this bond which holds
you to yonder man.”

“No, I—I cannot,” she protested, covering her face with her
hands.

“But it is necessary,” she urged. “Speak! Fear nothing. Then

the truth shall be made known.”

The slim, fair-faced girl stood with bent head, panting and
irresolute, while all waited for the words to fall from her dry,
white lips. At last, with eyes downcast, she summoned
courage, and in a low, hoarse voice said,—

“Zertho compelled me to accept him because—because he

can prove that my father murdered Charles Holroyde.”

“Your father a murderer!” her lover echoed. “Impossible.”

“Let me speak,” Mariette interrupted, hastily. “Two winters

ago I met in Nice a wealthy young Englishman named
Holroyde. We saw one another often at Monte Carlo, and
our acquaintance ripened into love. He offered me
marriage, and I accepted; but one night, after winning a
considerable sum, he returned to Nice about eleven o’clock,
was waylaid in a narrow lane running from the Promenade
des Anglais into the Rue de France, robbed and murdered.
Thus was the man I loved cruelly snatched from me just at
the moment when happiness was in my reach; just within a
few weeks of making me his wife. This villa, which I have
since bought, he designated as our home, and this ring
upon my finger is the one he gave me. The crime,
enshrouded in mystery, has not yet been forgotten either by
the police or the people of Nice. It seemed amazing that
such a dastardly assassination could take place so swiftly
without a single person hearing any cry, yet the police had
no clue. The murderer, who had no doubt accompanied or
followed his victim from Monte Carlo, must have struck him
down with unerring blow and escaped, leaving no trace
behind. Yet there was nevertheless a witness of the deed—a
witness who is present.”

“A witness!” gasped Liane.

“Yes,” Mariette said. “Max Richards will tell you what he

saw.”

The man indicated, still standing with his back to the door,
smiled triumphantly at Zertho, then said,—

“Yes, it is true. I witnessed the murder of Charles Holroyde.

On that night I had left the Café de la Régence, and
crossing the road overtook, in the Avenue de la Gare, Nelly
Bridson, Captain Brooker’s adopted daughter. We had met
before on several occasions, and after she had told me that
she had been to a chemist’s to obtain something for Liane,
who was not well, I offered, as it was late, to accompany
her as far as her house in the Rue Dalpozzo. To this she
made no objection, and we walked together along the Rue
de France as far as the corner of the street wherein she
lived. The moon, however, was bright upon the sea, and at
my suggestion she consented to accompany me for a stroll
along the Promenade. To reach the latter we had to pass
through a narrow lane, which we had just entered, when we
saw straight before us figures of men struggling together.
Instantly I dragged Nelly back into the deep shadow where
we could see without being observed. Suddenly I heard one
of the men cry in English ‘My God! I’m stabbed!’ and he
staggered back and fell. Then, discerning for the first time
that the man had been attacked by two assailants, I rushed
forward, but already they had bent and secured the
contents of their victim’s pocket, and as I approached one
of them threw the knife away. That man I recognised in the
moonlight as Captain Brooker!”

A low groan escaped the lips of the pale-faced, agitated

man who had been thus denounced, and he stood paralysed
by fear, clutching the back of a chair for support.

“The man, however, who threw away the knife he had

snatched up, was not the murderer,” Richards continued, in
a clear, calm voice. “Both Nelly and myself were afterwards
in complete accord that it was his companion who had, in
the mêlée, struck the fatal blow. The murderer was the man
there—Zertho d’Auzac.”

“It’s a lie!” cried the man indicated, “a foul, abominable

falsehood! Brooker crept up behind him and tried to gag
him with a scarf, when, finding that he was too powerful for
him, he struck him full in the breast. In an instant he was
dead.”

“Your story is an entire fabrication,” Richards answered, in a

deprecatory tone. “We were both quite close to you, and
saw your murderous face in the moonlight at the moment
when you killed your victim. To us it seemed as though you
alone had acted with premeditation, and that instead of
assisting you, Brooker was endeavouring to release
Holroyde, for I heard him cry in dismay, ‘Good God! Zertho,
what are you doing?’ It was you who bent and secured the
notes, while Brooker snatched up the knife, held it for an
instant in hesitation, then seeing me approach in the
darkness, flung it away and fled after you. I sped along the
Promenade for some distance, leaving Nellie beside the
prostrate man, but you both escaped, and when I returned
she had gone. She had, I suppose, rushed home, fearing to
be discovered there. But the young Englishman was already
lifeless, therefore I left the spot hurriedly. Next morning,
when the town was in a state of great excitement over the
murdered Englishman, Nelly called at my rooms and begged
me to say nothing to the police, because she felt certain the
Captain would be arrested and convicted as an accessory.
Therefore, in obedience to her wish, I have kept my
knowledge secret until such time as I should choose to
make the truth known.”

“Is that the actual truth?” Brooker asked, agape in

wonderment.

“It is the entire truth of what I saw with my own eyes—of

what I am prepared to swear in any court of justice.”

“So confused were the memories of that terrible incident

that I have all along believed that I myself was the actual
murderer,” said the Captain. “That night I had drunk more
wine than usual, and remember very little of the occurrence
save that I held the knife in my hand, and that on the
following morning when I awoke I found my hands stained
with blood, while in my pocket were some of the stolen
notes. Zertho told me, when we met next day, that, in a
frenzy of madness at having lost almost every sou I
possessed, I had attacked Holroyde suddenly, murdered
him, and filched his winnings from his pocket. He said,
however, he would preserve my secret, and did so until a
few weeks ago, when Liane refused to become his wife.
Then he declared that if I did not compel her to marry him
he would denounce me. I begged him to at least spare
Liane, but he was inexorable. Therefore I was compelled to
make confession to her, and she, rather than I should pay
the terrible penalty, sacrificed all her love and happiness for
my sake.”

His voice was broken with emotion, and although his lips
moved, he could utter no further words.

George, standing beside his well-beloved, grasped her tiny

hand and pressed it tenderly. At last he knew the secret of
her acceptance of Zertho’s offer, and recognised all the
tortures she must have suffered in order to save her father
from degradation and shame.

“He lies!” Zertho cried, his sallow face bloodless. He saw

how ingeniously he had been entrapped. “It was he himself
who killed Holroyde.”

“If so,” exclaimed Max Richards, “why have you paid me so

well for my silence?”

He did not reply.

“You are silent,” he went on. “Then I will tell you. You were
shrewd enough to see that while I held my tongue you
would still hold Captain Brooker in your power, and through
the pressure you could place upon him, secure Liane as
your wife. I knew this all along, although you believed me
to be entirely ignorant of it. Still I allowed you to pay me,
and I can assure you that the money you gave me with
such bad grace often came in very useful,” he laughed. “I
am not a Prince, and although I may be an adventurer, I
thank Heaven I’m not an assassin.”

“I paid you all you demanded, every penny, yet now you
turn upon me. It is the way of all blackmailers,” Zertho
cried, still livid with anger.
“I speak the truth in order to save from your merciless
clutches one woman whose fair name has never been
besmirched. I speak for Liane’s sake.”

Zertho turned from him with a fierce imprecation on his lips,

declaring that the whole story was a tissue of falsehoods,
and denouncing his companion Brooker as the actual
assassin.

“You forget,” said Richards, “that in addition to myself there

was a second witness, Nelly Bridson, the girl with whom
your victim had carried on a mild and harmless flirtation
prior to meeting Mariette. You forget that she was with me,
and actually saw you commit the deed.”

This truth rendered him voiceless.

“May I, in future, enjoy an absolutely clear conscience that I

had no hand in the actual crime?” the Captain asked
earnestly, turning to Richards.

“Certainly,” he answered, quickly. “Both Nelly and myself

saw every movement clearly, for the moon was shining
bright as day. We heard you shout in horror and dismay to
the assassin; we saw the blow struck; we saw the theft
committed, and watched you pick up the knife, which you
threw down again instantly at the moment when I rushed
forward.”

“I was, alas, only half-conscious of my actions,” he

answered. “But the enormity of the crime must have
sobered me instantly, for I remember a man approaching—
who it was I was not aware until this moment—and knowing
that we had been discovered and were in peril, flew for my
life back to the Promenade, reaching home by a circuitous
route about midnight.”
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