I rose with a resolute determination that it should be our last
interview.
"Why, Frank," she exclaimed, with well-feigned surprise, as she
advanced, "you haven't been to bed, and--why, what's the matter, dear?"
she added, noticing the expression of anger upon my countenance.
"You ought to know well enough," I replied sternly.
"How should I know?" she asked. "Why, the gas is still burning! Surely
you've not been writing all night!"
"It seems your headache has left you," I exclaimed curtly, without
answering her question.
"Yes, I feel better this morning."
"In fact, the pain disappeared as soon as you left me last night, eh?"
"What!--what do you mean, Frank?" she asked anxiously, in a strange
voice, a sudden pallor overspreading her statuesque face.
"You plead ignorance; it is exactly what I expected. My meaning, I
should have thought was pretty clear. You are not usually so dull."
"I do not understand you."
Her eyes wavered, she trembled with excitement, and I could see she was
bent upon concealing the truth. This increased my anger.
"It is a lie!" I said sharply. "You are trying to deceive me, but I
know the truth at last."
"Deceiving you! Why, what have I done that you should accuse me in this
manner? Surely you are not yourself this morning?"
"You left me here writing last night, did you not?"
"Yes," she answered, gloomily.
"And thought that I was safe for a few hours, and would not keep an eye
upon your movements?"
"What has that to do with it?"
"Simply this. A couple of hours after you shammed illness and left me,
I went out into the Dene, and there I saw--"
"There you saw me!" she cried wildly, swaying forward, and clutching at
the back of a chair for support. "_Dieu_! it is true, Frank; yes, true,
I--I confess--I deceived you."
"Then you admit it!" I ejaculated, hardly believing my own ears.
"Yes; yes, I do," she moaned in tones of anguish. "But forgive me, and
say no more about the occurrence. It was unfortunate, and no harm has
been done."
I tried with difficulty to restrain my passionate indignation. Such a
cool request maddened me.
"Unfortunate?" I cried. "No; for me it is the reverse, for it has
opened my eyes to your faithlessness. Forgive you this! The thing's
absurd!"
"I unfaithful!" she repeated, looking vacantly about her, and clasping
her hands. "I never thought it could be misconstrued into that! I
unfaithful! Am I not your wife?" and with heaving breast and tearful
eyes she bent her head as if to avert my gaze.
"Yes; you are my wife, but she who brings dishonour upon her husband is
unworthy that name," I said, in a tone of disgust.
"I have not brought you dishonour," she declared, drawing herself up
with dignity.
"You have, I tell you! Late last night you met a strange man in the
Dene, and that man is your lover!" I retorted, decisively.
"That I am to blame, Frank, I admit," she said, dashing the tears from
her eyes, "but he is not my lover. I swear you are mistaken. Nothing
was further from my thoughts."
"Oh, don't tell me that! I know enough of the world to distinguish the
meaning of such clandestine meetings," I replied, sickened at the manner
she was endeavouring to clear herself.
"There is no love between us," she exclaimed; "but,"--and she paused.
"Then why meet him in such a secret manner?" I demanded, adding with a
sneer, "perhaps you will tell me next that it was not you I saw, but a
twin sister."
She still hesitated, with her eyes cast down as if in thought.
"You can give no answer," I continued with warmth, "because you are
guilty."
"Guilty only of meeting him," she said, drawing a deep breath: "but I
assure you there is no love between us--nay, I swear it--only a secret
tie."
"I don't wish you to perjure yourself," I remarked coldly. "You `assure
me'! What utter nonsense."
"I tell you the truth."
"You have told me so many falsehoods that a little truth is certainly
refreshing!" I replied with sarcasm.
"I cannot force you to believe me," she continued in a low voice, still
steadying herself by the chair.
"Do you think me such a confounded idiot, then, as to believe you could
have business with a strange man at that hour of the night?"
"Business, nevertheless, was the object of our meeting."
"Bah! your excuses are positively intolerable. What was the nature of
this business?"
"You must not know," she replied, hesitatingly.
Her brows contracted, and her tiny hands clenched tightly upon the
chair-back, as if summoning all her courage to be firm.
"Ah! the old story. More mystery. Look here! I've had enough of it!"
I shouted in anger. "In fact, I've had too much of it already, and I
demand an explanation, or you and I must part!"
A shudder ran through her slim frame as I spoke, and she lost her
support and almost fell. With a sudden movement she pushed back the
mass of dark curls from her forehead, her bright eyes gleamed with an
earnest fire as they met mine, and she said, hysterically, "You are
cruel--you do not know how I suffer, for your surmise is not correct in
the smallest degree. You, my husband, I love, and no one else. And you
accuse me. _Mon Dieu_!"
My self-control was very nearly exhausted. If she had been a man I
might have struck her! As it was, I was powerless, and as I looked at
her my eyes must have gleamed with fury.
"Last night proved the great extent of your love for me," I exclaimed
fiercely.
All that latent fire which exists in every woman's nature, ready to
burst into flame when her self-respect is wounded, was aglow in Vera as
I uttered that retort.
"I cannot see that it did. I have done absolutely nothing of which I am
ashamed," was her answer.
She spoke with a cool, reckless candour that shocked me. My thoughts
were soured by disappointment.
"What!" I cried, "have you no compunction?"
"I am sorry it was my ill-luck to be seen by you, and thus cause you
unnecessary pain."
"Oh, spare me your expressions of sorrow, pray," I said, in a hard tone.
"They are out of place."
"I had thought to keep his presence a secret," she continued in that
dead-calm voice, which was like some one speaking in a dream.
"If he were not your lover, why should you do that? Your own words
prove your guilt?"
"Because I had reasons," she replied. "Reasons!" I repeated, my
thoughts at once reverting to the piece of seal I had discovered.
"Strange reasons they must be, surely. What is his name?"
"It is nobody you know. You have never heard of him."
It was upon the tip of my tongue to denounce him as the perpetrator of
the crime in Bedford Place, but with difficulty I restrained myself,
and, impelled by the strangeness of her manner, demanded:
"Who is he? Answer me!"
"I am very sorry, Frank, but I cannot," she replied, her face deathly
pale, and her limbs trembling with agitation.
"Then you refuse to answer?" I cried, stung to the quick by her dogged
persistency.
"Yes; I must."
Her hands clasped, her teeth firmly set, her bloodless face tear-stained
and haggard, and her hair disordered, she stood rigidly beside the chair
that supported her, striving by an almost superhuman effort to suppress
her emotion.
"Vera," I shouted fiercely, "it seems I've been fooled. Curse that man
who has brought misery and destruction to us both! By heaven if--"
"He is not to blame: it is I," she interrupted. "You shield him at the
expense of yourself. I see. Now, hear me. All my questions you have
evaded; to none will you give direct answers. Enough of mysteries which
you have refused to reveal ever since knowing me; therefore, we can do
naught else but part."
"What--you will leave me because of this?" she moaned, with a wild,
hysterical cry. "Why don't you go a step further--why don't you say at
once you are tired of me?" she cried, with an outburst of passion. "Say
that you wish me dead."
"That would be untrue," I answered. "You know well I have lived only
for you, Vera, and at nothing should I rejoice more than to be able to
prove myself mistaken; yet, until that can be done, we must separate."
She was grave and thoughtful for a moment, then, looking into my face,
said haughtily:
"If you are determined upon this step, I am powerless to prevent it."
"No, you are not," I asserted.
"Why?"
"Because you might answer satisfactorily the questions I put to you just
now."
"No; no, anything but that," she replied promptly, as with a frantic
gesture she covered her face with her hands, continuing, "It--it would
be far better for us to part, or the result--the result--might prove
fatal."
"What do you mean?" I demanded incredulously, as the mystery of the
seal recurred to me.
"I mean that my secret must be kept, even if we part," she gasped, with
a futile endeavour to compose herself.
"This is your final decision, then?"
"Alas! it must be."
"Very well, Vera, I wish you adieu," I said sadly, for I was completely
broken-hearted at the thought of my idol's deceit, and the transparent
subterfuges by which she had endeavoured to conceal her guilt. "We have
been happy during the few months of our wedded life, but that is a thing
of the past. Henceforth mine will be a dark, hopeless existence, while
yours, I trust, may be as pleasant as it has hitherto been; for though
you have dishonoured me, I love you too well, even now, to wish any
calamity should ever befall you."
"No, Frank, don't leave me. I could not bear it!" she shrieked,
bursting into a torrent of tears. "I have told you the truth--I have,
by heaven! It is my terrible misfortune that I am unable to explain who
that man was, and from the same cause it has not been possible for me to
acquaint you with anything relating to my past. Wait patiently for a
little, and I promise you faithfully--I swear you shall know
everything."
She was terribly in earnest, I could see; her whole future depending
upon my decision that moment. It was the secret of her life I was
anxious to learn beyond anything, and I asked:
"How long must I wait?"
She gazed at me for a few seconds blankly, apparently making some
calculation.
"Three weeks. Wait till then before you condemn me--do, I implore of
you!"
What ingenious motive could there be in thus gaining time, I asked
myself. Could it be that in three weeks' time the murderer would be
safely out of the country?
This seemed more than probable.
I felt half inclined to demand an immediate explanation or carry out the
alternative, when, on a moment's reflection, I resolved not to resort to
extremes without giving her an opportunity of disproving my allegations.
"Very well," I said impatiently, at last; "the matter shall rest for the
present; but this day three weeks I shall be prepared--I shall expect to
hear a complete explanation. Bear that in mind."
As I spoke the door had opened noiselessly, and Demetrius, with an
expectant expression on his good-humoured face, and a cigarette in his
mouth, stood upon the threshold.
Vera, who had been awaiting my reply with breathless agitation, murmured
in a low, intense voice, "In three weeks you shall know all, I--
promise--you," and before I could save her she had swayed forward
helplessly and fallen full length in a dead swoon.
"_Ma foi_!" exclaimed Demetrius; "why, what has happened?" as he rushed
forward in consternation and assisted me to lift her upon the couch.
"Nothing," I replied. "A little difference of opinion between us,
that's all;" and ringing the bell violently to summon the servants, I
left the room without further utterance.