CHAPTER VII.

_Queen_. Whereon do you look?

_Hamlet_. On him, on him,--look you how pale he glares!--_Hamlet_.

PERHAPS to Maltravers those few minutes which ensued, as they walked

slowly on, compensated for all the troubles and cares of years; for

natures like his feel joy even yet more intensely than sorrow. It might

be that the transport, the delirium of passionate and grateful thoughts

that he poured forth, when at last he could summon words, expressed

feelings the young Evelyn could not comprehend, and which less delighted

than terrified her with the new responsibility she had incurred. But

love so honest, so generous, so intense, dazzled and bewildered and

carried her whole soul away. Certainly at that hour she felt no

regret--no thought but that one in whom she had so long recognized

something nobler than is found in the common world was thus happy and

thus made happy by a word, a look from her! Such a thought is woman's

dearest triumph; and one so thoroughly unselfish, so yielding, and so

soft, could not be insensible to the rapture she had caused.

"And oh!" said Maltravers, as he clasped again and again the hand that he

believed he had won forever, "now, at length, have I learned how

beautiful is life! For this--for this I have been reserved! Heaven is

merciful to me, and the waking world is brighter than all my dreams!"

He ceased abruptly. At that instant they were once more on the terrace

where he had first joined Teresa, facing the wood, which was divided by a

slight and low palisade from the spot where they stood. He ceased

abruptly, for his eyes encountered a terrible and ominous apparition,--a

form connected with dreary associations of fate and woe. The figure had

raised itself upon a pile of firewood on the other side of the fence, and

hence it seemed almost gigantic in its stature. It gazed upon the pair

with eyes that burned with a preternatural blaze, and a voice which

Maltravers too well remembered shrieked out "Love! love! What! _thou_

love again? Where is the Dead! Ha, ha! Where is the Dead?"

Evelyn, startled by the words, looked up, and clung in speechless terror

to Maltravers. He remained rooted to the spot.

"Unhappy man," said he, at length, and soothingly, "how came you hither?

Fly not, you are with friends."

"Friends!" said the maniac, with a scornful laugh. "I know thee, Ernest

Maltravers,--I know thee: but it is not thou who hast locked me up in

darkness and in hell, side by side with the mocking fiend! Friends! ah,

but no Friends shall catch me now! I am free! I am free! Air and wave

are not more free!" And the madman laughed with horrible glee. "She is

fair--fair," he said, abruptly checking himself, and with a changed

voice, "but not so fair as the Dead. Faithless that thou art--and yet

she loved _thee_! Woe to thee! woe! Maltravers, the perfidious! Woe to

thee--and remorse--and shame!"

"Fear not, Evelyn,--fear not," whispered Maltravers, gently, and placing

her behind him; "support your courage,--nothing shall harm you."

Evelyn, though very pale, and trembling from head to foot, retained her

senses. Maltravers advanced towards the mad man. But no sooner did the

quick eye of the last perceive the movement, than, with the fear which

belongs to that dread disease,--the fear of losing liberty,--he turned,

and with a loud cry fled into the wood. Maltravers leaped over the

fence, and pursued him some way in vain. The thick copses of the wood

snatched every trace of the fugitive from his eye.

Breathless and exhausted, Maltravers returned to the spot where he had

left Evelyn. As he reached it, he saw Teresa and her husband approaching

towards him, and Teresa's merry laugh sounded clear and musical in the

racy air. The sound appalled him; he hastened his steps to Evelyn.

"Say nothing of what we have seen to Madame de Montaigne, I beseech you,"

said he; "I will explain why hereafter."

Evelyn, too overcome to speak, nodded her acquiescence. They joined the

De Montaignes, and Maltravers took the Frenchman aside.

But before he could address him, De Montaigne said,--

"Hush! do not alarm my wife--she knows nothing; but I have just heard at

Paris, that--that he has escaped--you know whom I mean?"

"I do; he is at hand; send in search of him! I have seen him. Once more

I have seen Castruccio Cesarini!"

Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 08 · 第 7 / 7 章