“The door opened as I uttered the words, and my old major-domo—gray haired, and an heir-loom, so to say, of the family—bowed low, and announced that tea was served and madam waiting.
“I rose and looked into the mirror above the fireplace. I was pale, but not sufficiently so to excite suspicion; and with a smile which frightened Nighthawk, took my way toward the supper-room.
“Madam was awaiting me, as I suspected, and I had never seen her look more radiant. A single glance told me that she had made an elaborate toilet in honor of—my funeral! Her dark hair was in shining braids; her eyes sparkled with joy; her parted lips showed her white teeth;—the only evidence I saw of concealed emotion was in the bloodless cheeks. They were as white as the lace falling over her superb silk dress.
“‘You see you keep me waiting!’ she said, with playful naiveté, ‘and your tea is growing cold, sir—which is worse for me than for you, as you do not care, but I care for you!’
“And as I passed her, she drew me playfully toward her, dragged me down, and held up her lips. I touched them with my own; they were as cold as ice, or the cheek my own face just touched in passing. I went to the table; took my seat; and madam poured out the tea, with a covert glance toward me. I was not looking at her, but I saw it.
“A moment afterward, the old waiter presented me the small gilt cup, smoking, fragrant, and inviting.
“I took it, looking, as before, out of the corner of my eye at madam. She was leaning forward, watching me with a face as pale as death. I could hear her teeth chatter.
“I placed the cup to my lips;—her hand, holding a spoon, trembled so that the spoon beat a tattoo on her saucer. She was watching me in breathless suspense; and all at once I turned full toward her.
“‘The taste of this tea is singular,’ I said, ‘I should call it very bad.’
“‘Oh, it is—excellent!’ she muttered, between her chattering teeth.
“‘The cup you send me is certainly wretched. Do me the pleasure to taste it, madam.’
“And depositing it upon the waiter of the old servant, I said:—
“‘Take this to your mistress.’
“He did so; she just touched it with her lips, her hand trembling, then replaced it upon the waiter.
“‘I perceive nothing disagreeable,’ she murmured.
“‘Swallow a mouthful,’ I said, with a bitter smile.
“She looked at me with sudden intentness. Her eyes, full of wild inquiry, seemed attempting to read into my very soul.
“‘Perhaps you object to drinking after me, as the children say,’ I added—this time with a species of sneer, and a flash of the eye, I think.
“‘Oh, no!’ she exclaimed, with an attempt to laugh; ‘and to show you—’
“With a quick movement she attempted—as though by accident—to strike the waiter with her elbow, in order to overturn the cup.
“But the old servant was too well trained. The lady’s elbow struck the waiter, but the skilful attendant withdrew it quickly. Not a drop of the tea was spilled.
“A moment afterward I was beside madam.
“‘I pray you to drink,’ I said.
“‘I can not—I feel unwell,’ she murmured, cowering beneath the fire in my eye.
“‘I beg you to drink from this cup.’
“‘I have told you—I will not.’
“‘I beseech you to humor me, madam. Else I shall regard you as a murderess!’
“She rose suddenly.
“‘Your meaning, sir!’ she exclaimed, as pale as death.
“I took the cup and poured the tea into a saucer. At the bottom was a modicum of white powder, undissolved. I poured the tea into the cup again—then a second time into the saucer. This time nothing remained—and I proceeded to pour cream into the saucer, until it was filled. Madam watched me with distended eyes, and trembling from head to foot. Then suddenly she uttered a cry—a movement of mine had caused the cry.
“I had gone to the fire where a cat was reposing upon the rug, and placed the saucer before her. In two minutes its contents had disappeared down the throat of the cat. Five minutes afterward the animal was seized with violent convulsions—uttered unearthly cries—tore the carpet with its claws—glared around in a sort of despair—rolled on its back, beat the air with its paws—and expired.
“I turned to madam, who was gazing at me with distended eyes, and pointing to the cat, said:—
“‘See this unfortunate animal, madam! Her death is curious. She has died in convulsions, in consequence of drinking a cup of tea!’”
“Up to this moment,” continued Mohun, “madam had exhibited every indication of nervous excitement, and a sort of terror. Had that arisen from a feeling of suspense, and the unexpected discovery of her intent by the proposed victim? I know not; but now, when all was discovered, her manner suddenly changed.
“She glared at me like a wild animal driven to bay. Her pearly teeth closed upon her under lip until the blood started. Pallid, but defiant, she uttered a low hoarse sound which resembled the growl of a tigress from whom her prey has been snatched, and with a firm and haughty step left the apartment, glaring over her shoulder at me to the last.
“Then her step was heard upon the great staircase; she slowly ascended to her chamber; the door opened, then closed—and I sat down, overcome for an instant by the terrible scene, within three paces of the dead animal, destroyed by the poison intended for myself.
“This paralysis of mind lasted only for a moment, however. I rose coolly; directed the old servant, who alone had witnessed the scene, to retire, and carefully abstain from uttering a word of what had passed before him—then I leaned upon the mantel-piece, reflected for five minutes—and in that time I had formed my resolution.
“Mortimer was first to be thought of. I intended to put him to death first and foremost. It would have been easy to have imitated the old seigneurs of the feudal age, and ordered my retainers to assassinate him; but that was repugnant to my whole character. It should never be said that a Mohun had shrunk before his foe; that one of my family had delegated to another the punishment of his enemy. I would fight Mortimer—meet him in fair and open combat—if he killed me well and good. If not, I would kill him. And it should not be with the pistol. I thirsted to meet him breast to breast; to feel my weapon traverse his heart. To accomplish this was not difficult. I had often heard Mortimer, when at the parsonage, boast of his skill with the foils. I had a pair at hand. By breaking off the buttons, and sharpening the points, I would secure two rude but excellent rapiers, with which Mortimer and myself could settle our little differences, after the fashion of gentlemen in former ages! As to the place of combat,—anywhere—in the house, or a part of the grounds around the mansion—it was unimportant I said, so that one of us was killed. But a moment’s reflection induced me to change my views. Under any circumstances I was going to die—that was true. My character, however, must be thought of. It would not do to have a stain rest on the last of the house of Mohun! Were I to kill Mortimer in the house, or grounds, it would be said that I had murdered him, with the aid of my servants—that I had drawn him thither to strike him—had acted the traitor and the coward. ‘No,’ I said, ‘even in death I must guard the family honor. This man must fall elsewhere—in some spot far distant from this house—fall without witnesses—in silence—in fair fight with me, no one even seeing us.’
“I had formed this resolution in five minutes after the departure of madam from the supper-room. I went straight to the library; calmly stated my resolution to Nighthawk; and in spite of his most obstinate remonstrances, and repeated refusals, broke down his opposition by sheer force of will. It took me half an hour, but at the end of that time I had succeeded. Nighthawk listened, with bent head, and pale face covered with drops of cold perspiration, to my orders. These orders were to have the horses put to the carriage, which was to be ready at my call; then to proceed with a trusty servant, or more if necessary, to a private spot on the river, which I described to him; dig a grave of full length and depth; and when his work was finished, return and report the fact to me, cautioning the servant or servants to say nothing.
“This work, I calculated, would be completed about midnight—and at midnight I promised myself an interview with my friend Mortimer.
“Nighthawk groaned as he listened to my cold and resolute voice, giving minute instructions for the work of darkness—looked at my face, to discover if there were any signs of yielding there—doubtless saw none whatever—and disappeared, uttering a groan, to carry out the orders which he had received from me.
“Then I took the two foils from the top of the bookcase where they were kept; broke off the buttons by placing my heel upon them; procured a file, and sharpened the points until they would have penetrated through an ordinary plank. That was sufficient, I said to myself—they would pierce a man’s breast—and placing them on the buffet, I went to a drawer and took out a loaded revolver, which I thrust into my breast.
“Two minutes afterward I had ascended to madam’s chamber, opened the door, and entered.”
“I did not arrive a moment too soon—in fact I came in the nick of time.
“Madam had hastily collected watches, chains, breastpins, necklaces, and all the money she could find; had thrust the whole into a jewel casket; thrown her rich furs around her shoulders; and was hurrying toward the door, in rear of the apartment which opened on the private staircase.
“She had not locked the main door of the apartment, doubtless fearing to excite suspicion, or knowing I could easily break the hasp with a single blow of my foot. She had plainly counted on my stupor of astonishment and horror at her crime, and was now trying to escape.
“That did not suit my view, however. In two steps, I reached the private door, turned the key, drew it from the lock, and placed it in my pocket.
“‘Sit down, madam,’ I said, ‘and do not be in such a hurry to desert your dear husband. Let us talk for a few moments, at least, before you depart.’
“She glared at me and sat down. She looked regal in her costly furs, holding the casket, heaped with rich jewels.
“‘What is your programme, madam, if I may ask?’ I said, taking a chair which stood opposite to her.
“‘To leave this house!’ she said, hoarsely.
“‘Ah! you are tired of me, then?’
“‘I am sick of you!—have long been sick of you!’
“‘Indeed!’ I said. ‘That is curious! I thought our marriage was a love affair, madam; at least you induced me to suppose so. What, then, has suddenly changed your sentiments in my direction? Am I a monster? Have I been cruel to you? Am I unworthy of you?’
“‘I hate and despise you!’
“It was the hoarse growl of a wild animal rather than the voice of a woman. She was imperial at that moment—and I acknowledge, Surry, that she was ‘game to the last!’
“‘Ah! you hate me, you despise me!’ I said. ‘I have had the misfortune to incur madam’s displeasure! No more connubial happiness—no more endearments and sweet confidences—no more loving words, and glances—no more bliss!’
“She continued to glare at me.
“‘I am unworthy of madam; I see that clearly,’ I went on. ‘I am only a poor little, plain little, insignificant little country clodhopper! I am nothing—a mere nobody,—while madam is—shall I tell you, madam? While you are a convict—a bigamist,—and a poisoner! Are you not?’
“Her face became livid, but her defiant eyes never sank before my glance. I really admired her, Surry. No woman was ever braver than that one. I had supposed that these words would overwhelm her; that the discovery of my acquaintance with her past life, and full knowledge of her attempted crime, would crush her to the earth. Perhaps I had some remnant of pity for this woman. If she had been submissive, repentant! but, instead of submission and confusion, she exhibited greater defiance than before. In the pale face her eyes burned like coals of fire—and it was rage which inflamed them.
“‘So you have set your spies on me!’ she exclaimed, in accents of inexpressible fury. ‘You are a chivalric gentleman, truly! You are worthy of your boasted family! You pretend to love and confide in me—you look at me with smiles and eyes of affection—and all the time you are laying a trap for me—endeavoring to catch me and betray me! Well, yes, sir! yes! What you have discovered through your spies is true. I was tried and sentenced as a thief—I was married when I first saw you—and it is this miserable creature, this offscouring of the kennels, this thief, that has become the wife of the proud Mr. Mohun—in the eyes of the world at least! I am so still—my character is untainted—dare to expose me and have me punished, and it is your proud name that will be tarnished! your grand escutcheon that will be blotted! Come! arrest me, expose me, drag me to justice! I will stand up in open court, and point my finger at you where you stand cowering, in the midst of jeers and laughter, and say: “There is Mr. Mohun, of the ancient family of the Mohuns,—he is the husband and the dupe of a thief!”’
“She was splendid as she uttered these words, Surry. They thrilled me, and made my blood flame. I half rose, nearly beside myself—then I resumed my seat and my coolness. A moment afterward I was as calm as I am at this moment, and said, laughing:—
“‘So you have prepared that pretty little tableau, have you, madam? I compliment you on your skill;—and even more on your nerve. But have you not omitted one thing—a very trifling portion, it is true, of the indictment to be framed against you? I refer to the little scene of this evening, madam.’
“Her teeth closed with a snap. Otherwise she exhibited no emotion. Her flashing eyes continued to survey me with the former defiance.
“‘Is there not an additional clause in the said indictment, madam?’ I calmly continued, ‘which the commonwealth’s attorney will perhaps rely on more fully than upon all else in the document, to secure your conviction and punishment? You are not only a bigamist and an ex-convict,—you are also a poisoner, my dear madam, and may be hanged for that. Or, if not hanged—there is that handsome white house at Richmond, the state penitentiary. The least term which a jury can affix to your crime, will be eighteen years, if you are not sent there for life! For life!—think of that, madam. How very disagreeable it will be! Nothing around you but blank walls; no associates but thieves and murderers—hard labor with these pretty hands—a hard bed for this handsome body—coarse and wretched food for these dainty red lips—the dress, the food, the work, and the treatment of a convict! Disagreeable, is it not, madam? But that is the least that a felon, convicted of an attempt to poison, can expect! There is only one point which I have omitted, and which may count for you. This life in prison will not be so hard to you—since your ladyship has already served your apprenticeship among felons.’
“The point at last was reached. Madam had listened with changing color, and my words seemed to paint the frightful scene in all its horror. Suddenly fury mastered her. She rose and seemed clutching at some weapon to strike me.
“‘You are a gentleman! you insult a woman.’
“‘You are a poisoner, madam—you make tea for the gentleman!’
“‘You are a coward! do you hear? a coward!’
“‘I can not return, madam, the same reproach!’ I replied, rising and bowing; ‘it required some courage to attempt to poison me upon the very night of my wedding!’
“My words drove her to frenzy.
“‘Beware!’ she exclaimed, taking a step toward me, and putting her hand into her bosom.
“‘Beware!’ I said, with a laugh, ‘beware of what, my dear Madam Laffarge?’
“‘Of this!’
“And with a movement as rapid as lightning she drew from her breast a small silver-mounted pistol, which she aimed straight at my breast.
“I was not in a mood to care much for pistols, Surry. When a man is engaged in a little affair like that, bullets lose their influence on the nerves.
“‘That is a pretty toy!’ I said. ‘Where did you procure it madam, the poisoner?’
“With a face resembling rather a hideous mask than a human countenance, she rushed upon me; placed the muzzle of the pistol on my very breast; and drew the trigger.
“The weapon snapped.
“A moment afterward I had taken it from her hand and thrown it into a corner.
“‘Very well done!’ I said. ‘What a pity that you use such indifferent caps! Your pistol is as harmless as your tea!’
“She uttered a hoarse cry, but did not recoil in the least, Surry! This woman was a curiosity. Instead of retreating from me, she clenched her small white hand, raised it above her head, and exclaimed:—
“‘If he only were here!’
“‘He, madam?’ I said. ‘You refer to your respected brother—to Mr. Mortimer?’
“‘Yes! he would make you repent your cowardly outrages and insults.’
“I looked at my watch, it was just eleven.
“‘The hour is earlier than I thought, madam,’ I said, ‘but perhaps he has already arrived.’
“And advancing to the side of the lady, I took her arm, drew her toward the window, and said:—
“‘Why not give your friend the signal you have agreed on, madam?’
“At a bound she reached the window, and struck a rapid series of blows with her fingers upon the pane.
“Five minutes afterward a heavy step was heard ascending the private staircase. I went to the door and unlocked it; the step approached—stopped at the door—the door opened, and Mortimer appeared.
“‘Come in, my dear brother-in-law,’ I said, ‘we are waiting for you.’”
“Mortimer recoiled as if a blow had been suddenly struck at him. His astonishment was so comic that I began to laugh.
“‘Good! you start!’ I said. ‘You thought I was dead by this time?’
“‘Yes,’ he coolly replied.
“As he spoke, his hand stole under the cloak in which he was wrapped, and I heard the click of a pistol as he cocked it. I drew my own weapon, cocked it in turn, and placing the muzzle upon Mortimer’s breast, said:—
“‘Draw your pistol and you are dead!’
“He looked at me with perfect coolness, mingled with a sort of curiosity. I saw that he was a man of unfaltering courage, and that the instincts of a gentleman had not entirely left him, soiled as he was with every crime. His eye was calm and unshrinking. He did not move an inch when I placed my pistol muzzle upon his breast. At the words which I uttered he withdrew his hand from his cloak—he had returned the weapon to its place—and with a penetrating glance, said:—
“‘What do you wish, sir; as you declare you await me?’
“‘Ask madam,’ I said, ‘or rather exert your own ingenuity.’
“‘My ingenuity?’
“‘In guessing.’
“‘Why not tell me?’
“‘So be it. The matter is perfectly simple, sir. I wish to kill you, or give you an opportunity to kill me—is that plain?’
“‘Quite so,’ replied Mortimer, without moving a muscle.
“‘I can understand, without further words, that all explanations and discussions are wholly useless.’
“‘Wholly.’
“‘You wish to fight me,’ he said.
“‘Yes.’
“‘To put an end to me, if possible?’
“‘Yes.’
“‘Well, I will give you that opportunity, sir, and, even return you my thanks for not killing me on the spot.’
“He paused a moment, and looked keenly at me.
“‘This whole affair is infamous,’ he said. ‘I knew that when I undertook it. I was once a gentleman, and have not forgotten every thing I then learned, whatever my practice may be. You have been tricked and deceived. You have been made the victim of a disgraceful plot, and I was the author of the whole affair; though this lady would, herself, have been equal to that, or even more. You see I talk to you plainly, sir; I know a gentleman when I see him, and you are one. I was formerly something of the same sort, but having outlawed myself, went on in the career that brought me to this. I was poor—am poor now. I originated the idea of this pseudo-marriage, with a view to profit by it, but with no further—’
“He suddenly paused and looked at the woman. Their glances in that moment crossed like lightning.
“‘Speak out!’ she cried, ‘say plainly—’
“‘Hush! I did not mean to—I am no coward, madam!’
“‘Say plainly that it was I who formed the design to get rid of this person!’
“And she pointed furiously at me.
“‘Let no scruples restrain you—take nothing upon yourself—it was I, I!—I who planned his death!’
“Mortimer remained for an instant silent. Then he resumed, in the same measured voice as before:—
“‘You hear,’ he said. ‘I tried to shield her, to take the blame—meant to give you no inkling of this—but she spoils all. To end this. I have offered you a mortal insult—soiled an ancient and honorable name—the last representative of the Mohuns has formed through me a degrading connection. I acknowledge all that. I am going to try to kill you, to bury every thing in the grave. I would have shrunk from assassinating you, though I wish your death. You offer me honorable combat, and you do me an honor, which I appreciate. Let us finish. The place, time, and weapons?’
“There was, then, something not altogether base in this man. I listened with joy. I had expected to encounter a wretch without a single attribute of the gentleman.
“‘You accept this honorable combat, then?’ I said.
“‘With thanks,’ he replied.
“‘You wish to fight as gentlemen fight?’
“‘Yes.’
“‘You fence well?’
“‘Yes—but you?’
“‘Sufficiently well.’
“‘Are you certain? I warn you I am excellent at the foils.’
“‘They suit me—that is agreed on, then?’
“He bowed, and said:—
“‘Yes. And now, as to the place, the time, and every detail. All that I leave to you.’
“I bowed in turn.
“‘Then nothing will delay our affair. I have ordered a grave to be dug, in a private spot, on the river. The foils are ready, with the buttons broken, the points sharpened. The carriage has been ordered. A ride of fifteen minutes will bring us to the grave, which is done by this time, and we can settle our differences there, by moonlight, without witnesses or interruption.’
“Mortimer looked at me with a sinister smile.
“‘You are provident!’ he said, briefly. ‘I understand. The one who falls will give no trouble. The grave will await him, and he can enter at once upon his property!’
“‘Yes.’
“‘And this lady?’
“‘That will come afterward,’ I said.
“‘If I kill you—?’
“‘She is your property.’
“‘And if you kill me—?’
“‘She is mine,’ I said.
“The sinister smile again came to the dark features of Mortimer.
“‘So be it,’ he said, ‘and I am ready to accompany you, sir.’
“I drew my pistol and threw it upon the bed, looking at Mortimer as I did so. He imitated me, and opening his coat, showed me that he was wholly unarmed. I did the same, and having locked the private door leading to the back staircase, led the way out, followed by Mortimer. He turned and looked at madam as he passed through the door. She was erect, furious, defiant, full of anticipated triumph. Was it a glance of gloomy compassion and deep tenderness which Mortimer threw toward her? I thought I heard him sigh.
“I locked the door, and we descended to the library.”
“As we entered the apartment, the clock on the mantel-piece struck midnight.
“My body servant was within call, and I ordered my carriage, which Nighthawk had been directed to have ready at a moment’s warning.
“In five minutes it was at the door, and I had just taken the two foils under my arm, when I heard a step in the passage. A moment afterward, Nighthawk entered.
“He was so pale that I scarcely recognized him. When his eyes encountered Mortimer, they flashed lightnings of menace.
“‘Well?’ I said, in brief tones.
“‘It is ready, sir,’ Nighthawk replied, in a voice scarcely audible. I looked at him imperiously.
“‘And the servants are warned to keep silent?’
“‘Yes, sir.’
“‘Very well. Remain here until I return,’ I said.
“And I pointed to a seat, with a glance at Nighthawk, which said plainly to him, ‘Do not presume to attempt to turn me from my present purpose—it will be useless, and offensive to me.’
“He groaned, and sat down in the seat I indicated. His frame was bent and shrunken like that of an old man, in one evening. Since that moment, I have loved Nighthawk, my dear Surry; and he deserves it.
“Without delay I led the way to the carriage, which was driven by my father’s old gray-haired coachman, and entered it with Mortimer, directing the driver to follow the high-road down the river. He did so; we rolled on in the moonlight, or the shadow, as it came forth or disappeared behind the drifting clouds. The air was intensely cold. From beyond the woods came the hollow roar of the Nottoway, which was swollen by a freshet.
“Mortimer drew his cloak around him, but said nothing. In ten minutes I called to the old coachman to stop. He checked his spirited horses—I had some good ones then—and I descended from the carriage, with the foils under my arm, followed by Mortimer.
“The old coachman looked on in astonishment. The spot at which I had stopped the carriage was wild and dreary beyond expression.
“‘Shall I wait, sir?’ he said, respectfully.
“‘No; return home at once, and put away the carriage.’
“He looked at me with a sort of stupor.
“‘Go home, sir?’ he said.
“‘Yes.’
“‘And leave you?’
“‘Obey me!’
“My voice must have shown that remonstrance would be useless. My old servitor uttered a sigh like the groan which had escaped from the lips of Nighthawk, and, mounting the box, turned the heads of his horses toward home.
“I watched the carriage until it turned a bend in the road, and then, making a sign to Mortimer to follow me, led the way into the woods. Pursuing a path which the moonlight just enabled me to perceive, I penetrated the forest; went on for about ten minutes; and finally emerged upon a plateau, in the swampy undergrowth near which stood the ruins of an old chimney.
“This chimney had served to indicate the spot to Nighthawk; and, before us, in the moonlight, was the evidence that he had found it. In the centre of the plateau was a newly dug grave—and in front of it I paused.
“‘We have arrived,’ I said.
“Mortimer gazed at the grave with a grim smile.
“‘That is a dreary and desolate object,’ he said.
“‘It will soon be inhabited,’ I returned; ‘and the issue of this combat is indifferent to me, since in either event I shall be dead.’
“‘Ah!’ he exclaimed, ‘explain that.’
“‘Then you do not understand! You think this duel will end every thing? You deceive yourself! A family history like mine does not terminate with a duel. Have you read those tragedies where everybody is killed?—where not a single one of the dramatis personae escapes? Well, this is going to be a drama of that exact description. Do you wish to save that woman, yonder? To do so, you must kill me. I tell you that to warn you to do your best, sir!’
“Mortimer glared at me. It is hard to imagine a glance more sinister.
“‘So you have arranged the whole affair?’ he said; ‘there is to be a wholesale killing.’
“‘Yes.’
“‘You are going to kill—her?’
“‘Yes.’
“‘Yourself, too?’
“‘Yes.’
“Mortimer’s smile became more sinister, as he raised his foil.
“‘Take your position, sir,’ he said; ‘I am going to save you the latter trouble.’
“I grasped my weapon, and placed myself on guard.
“In an instant he had thrown himself upon me with a fury which indicated the profound passion under his assumed coolness. His eyes blazed; his lips writhed into something like a deadly grin; I felt that I had to contend rather with a wild animal than a man. The grave yawned in the moonlight at our very feet, and Mortimer closed in, with fury, endeavoring to force me to its brink, and hurl me into it.
“Ten minutes afterward the combat was over; and it was Mortimer who occupied the grave.
“He had given ground an instant, to breathe; had returned to the attack more furiously than before; a tremendous blow of his weapon snapped my own, eighteen inches from the hilt; but this had probably saved my life instead of destroying it, as Mortimer, from his fierce exclamation as the blade broke, evidently expected.
“Before he could take advantage of his success, I sprang at his throat, grasped his sword-arm with my left hand, and, shortening my stump of a weapon, drove the point through his breast.
“He uttered a cry, staggered, and threw up his hands; I released my clutch on his arm; and he fell heavily backward into the grave.
“‘Now to end all,’ I said, and I set out rapidly for Fonthill.”
“I had not gone a hundred yards, when I heard the sound of wheels approaching.
“I had said to myself, ‘I am going back to madam; she will hear my footsteps upon the staircase; will open the door; will rush forward to embrace me, under the impression that I am her dear Mortimer, returning triumphant from the field of battle; and then a grand tableau!’ Things were destined to turn out differently, as you will see in an instant.
“The sound of wheels grew louder; a carriage appeared; and I recognized my own chariot.
“‘Why have you disobeyed my orders?’ I said to the old gray-haired driver, arresting the horses as I spoke, by violently grasping the bridles.
“The old coachman looked frightened. Then he said, in an agitated voice:—
“‘Madam ordered me to obey her, sir.’
“‘Madam?’
“‘Yes, sir.’
“‘Where is she?’
“‘In the carriage, sir. As soon as I got back, she came down to the door—ordered me to drive her to you—and I was obliged to do so, sir.’
“‘Good,’ I said, ‘you have done well.’
And opening the door of the carriage, through the glass of which I saw the pale face of the woman, I entered it, directing the coachman to drive to the ‘Hicksford Crossing.’
A hoarse, but defiant voice at my side said:—
“‘Where is Mr. Mortimer?’
“‘Gone over the river,’ I said, laughing, ‘and we are going, too.’
“‘To rejoin him?’
“‘Yes, madam.’
“The carriage had rolled on, and as it passed the grave I heard a groan.
“‘What is that?’ said she.
“‘The river is groaning over yonder, madam.’
“‘You will not attempt to pass it to-night?’
“‘Yes, madam. Are you afraid?’
“She looked at me with fiery eyes.
“‘Afraid? No!’ she said, ‘I am afraid of nothing!’
“I really admired her at that moment. She was truly brave. I said nothing, however. The carriage rolled on, and ten minutes afterward the roar of the river, now near at hand, was heard. That sound mingled with the deep bellowing of the thunder, which succeeded the dazzling flashes at every instant dividing the darkness.
“All at once my companion said:—
“‘I am tired of this—where is Mr. Mortimer?’
“‘He awaits us,’ I replied.
“‘You are going to him?’
“‘Yes.’
“We had reached the bank of the river, and, stopping the carriage, I sprung out. Madam followed me, without being invited. A small boat rose and fell on the swollen current. I detached the chain, seized a paddle, and pointed to the stern seat.
“‘The river is dangerous to-night,’ said madam, coldly.
“‘Then you are afraid, after all?’
“‘No!’ she said.
“And with a firm step she entered the boat.
“‘Go back with the carriage,’ I said to the driver. He turned the heads of the horses, and obeyed in silence.
“Madam had taken her seat in the stern of the boat. I pushed from shore into the current, and paddling rapidly to the middle of the foaming torrent, filled with drift-wood, threw the paddle overboard, and took my seat in the stern.
“As I threw away the paddle, my resolution seemed to dawn for the first time upon my companion. She had become deadly pale, but said nothing. With folded arms, I looked and listened; we were nearing a narrow and rock-studded point in the river, where there was no hope.
“The frail boat was going to be overturned there, or dashed to pieces without mercy. I knew the spot—knew that there was no hope. The torrent was roaring and driving the boat like a leaf toward the jagged and fatal rocks.
“‘Then you are going to kill me and yourself at the same time!’ she said.
“The woman was fearless.
“‘Yes,’ I said, ‘it is the only way. I could not live dishonored—you dishonored me—I die—and die with you!’
“And I rose erect, baring my forehead to the lightning.
“The point was reached. The boat swept on with the speed of a racehorse. A dazzling flash showed a dark object amid the foam, right ahead of us. The boat rushed toward it—the jagged teeth seemed grinning at us—the boat struck—and the next moment I felt the torrent sweep over me, roaring furious and sombre, like a wild beast that has caught its prey.”