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Dim and wavering as was the wind-blown light, yet it served to

show him the hideous error, as it seemed, into which he had

fallen, for the face of the man he had sought to kill had all the

bloom of boyhood, all the unstained purity of youth. He seemed

little more than a lad of twenty summers, hardly older, if older

indeed at all, than his sister had been when they had parted so

many years ago. It was obvious that this was not the man who had

destroyed her life.

He loosened his hold and reeled back. "My God! my God!" he cried,

"and I would have murdered you!"

Dorian Gray drew a long breath. "You have been on the brink of

committing a terrible crime, my man," he said, looking at him

sternly. "Let this be a warning to you not to take vengeance into

your own hands."

"Forgive me, sir," muttered James Vane. "I was deceived. A chance

word I heard in that damned den set me on the wrong track."