Part 28 (1/2)
”Deception!” I said. ”You must admit that you are deceiving me by concealing the truth of who and what you are!”
”That is scarcely a polite speech,” she observed, toying with the lorgnette suspended from her neck by a long chain of gold with turquoises set at intervals. ”What do you suspect me to be?” and she laughed lightly.
”According to your own confession,” I responded, ”you are possessed of an influence which is baneful; you are a worker of mysterious evil; a woman whose contact is as venom, whose touch is blasting as fire!”
”No! no!” she cried, starting up wildly and putting out her hands in imploring att.i.tude. ”I have done you no wrong--I swear I have not!
Spare me your reproaches. A guilt is upon me--a terrible guilt, I admit--but I have at least spared you. I warned you in time, and you escaped!”
”Then you are guilty!” I cried quickly, half-surprised at her sudden confession. But, turning her eyes upon me as she stood, she answered--
”Yes, I am guilty of a deadly sin--a sin that is terrible, awful, and unforgivable before G.o.d--yet, it is not what you suspect. I swear I had no hand in the death of your friend.”
”But you can reveal the truth to me!” I cried. ”You shall tell me!” I added fiercely, as I approached her.
”No,” she panted, drawing back, ”it is impossible. I--I cannot.”
She was confused, pale and flushed by turns, and terribly agitated. I saw by her att.i.tude she was not speaking the truth. I was convinced that, even then, she lied to me. Because of that I grew furious.
”If you were innocent you would not fear to explain all you know,” I cried in anger. ”In every detail you attempt to baffle me, but you shall do so no longer.”
She smiled a strange, tantalising smile, and leaning against the edge of the table a.s.sumed an easy att.i.tude.
”Is it not the truth that you are a mystery to every one?” I went on heedlessly, at that instant recollecting the conversation between herself and the stranger in Hyde Park. ”Is it not the truth that your character is such that, if the people of London knew its true estimate, you would be mobbed and torn limb from limb?”
She started, glaring at me quickly in fear.
”This denunciation is very amusing,” she said, with a forced laugh.
”Amusing!” I cried. ”I have not forgotten how your presence here had the effect of reducing sacred objects to ashes; I have not forgotten your own confession to me that you were a worker of iniquity, a woman endowed with an irresistible devastating force--the force of h.e.l.l itself!”
”And even though I confessed to you, you now charge me with deception,”
she answered in a strained tone. ”You offered me your love, but I was self-denying, and urged you to forget me and love Muriel Moore, who was as pure and upright as I am wanton and sinful. Did you take my advice?”
”Yes,” I answered, a trifle more calmly. ”But she is now lost to me.”
”I am aware of that,” she responded. ”You tarried too long ere you declared your affection.”
”Then you know her whereabouts?” I cried eagerly. ”Tell me.”
But she shook her head, answering--
”No, we are no longer friends after this denunciation you have to-day uttered. You suspect me of being a murderess; therefore I leave you to a.s.sist yourself.”
”Do you actually know where she is and refuse to tell me?” I cried.
”Certainly,” she responded. ”There is no reason why her happiness should be again disturbed.”
In an instant a fierce vengeance swept through my brain. This woman was of the flesh, for she stood there before me, her beauty heightened by the flush that had risen to her cheeks, her pale lips quivering with an uncontrollable anxiety which had taken possession of her, yet she was more cruel, more relentless, more ingenious in the working of evil, more resistless and invincible in her diabolical power, than any other person on the earth. All the strength, all the influence, all the ruling power possessed by Satan himself was centred within her.
I looked at the evil light in her eyes. She was, indeed, the incarnation of the Evil One.