Part 94 (1/2)

”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.”

XXVI.

AFTERWARD.

”When I opened my eyes, the sun was s.h.i.+ning in my face.

”I was lying on a ma.s.s of drift-wood, caught by a ledge of rock, jutting out into the river. I had apparently been hurled there, by the force of the current, stunned and bruised; the suns.h.i.+ne had aroused me, bringing me back to that life which was a burden and a mockery.

”And where was _she_? I shuddered as I asked myself that question. Had she been thrown from the boat? Had it been overturned? Was she drowned?

I closed my eyes with a shudder which traversed my body, chilling my blood as with the cold hand of death.

”For a moment I thought of throwing myself into the river, and thus ending all my woes. But I was too cowardly.

”I turned toward the sh.o.r.e, groaning; dragged my bruised and aching limbs along the ledge of jagged rocks, through the ma.s.ses of drift-wood; and finally reached the sh.o.r.e, where I sank down exhausted, and ready to die.

”I will not lengthen out the gloomy picture. At last I rose, looked around, and with bent head and cowering frame, stole away through the woods toward Fonthill. On my way, I pa.s.sed within two hundred yards of _the grave_--but I dared not go thither. He was dead, doubtless--and he had been slain in fair combat! It was another form that haunted me--the form of a woman--one who had dishonored me--attempted to poison me--a terrible being--but still a woman; and I had--murdered her!

”I reached home an hour or two afterward. Nighthawk was sitting in the library, pale, and haggard, watching for me.

”As I entered, he rose with an exclamation, extending his arms toward me, with an indescribable expression of joy.

”I shrunk back, refusing his hand.

”'Do not touch that,' I groaned, 'there is blood on it!'

”He seized it, and kneeling down, kissed it.

”'b.l.o.o.d.y or not, it is _your_ hand--the hand of my dear young master!'

”And the honest fellow burst into tears, as he covered my hand with kisses.

”A month afterward, I was in Europe, amid the whirl and noise of Paris.

I tried to forget that I was a murderer--but the shadow went with me!”