of bitter and scorching jealousy, which
various little indications of coquetry, displayed by the evidently
coquettish little Puritan damsel, and certain marks of desire to seek her
presence, and parade under her window, evinced by the hated Maywood, had
planted in his heart--and in a jealous and impatient temperament like
Gerald's, such seed, once sown, quickly grew up with rank luxuriance, and
spread on every side, imbibing sustenance from every element that
approached it, living, in want of better nourishment, upon the very air
itself. Perhaps the sight of Mistress Mildred for a moment at her window,
a passing word, or merely a kind smile, might have poured balm upon the
ulcer of jealousy, soothed the pain and closed the wound--at least for the
time. But during his long watch Gerald looked at that well-known window in
vain. There was not a symptom of the fair girl's presence in her chamber,
and Gerald's fertile imagination--the true imagination of the jealous
lover--suggested to him a thousand doubts and fears of Mildred's truth,
ingeniously invented self-tortures, weapons forged to be turned against
himself--all mere vague conjectures, but assuming in his eyes all the
solidity and reality of truth. If she were not in her chamber, he argued,
where could she be? Perhaps with her father: and her father was dictating
a despatch to that Mark Maywood, who served him sometimes as secretary;
and Mildred was gazing on him with pleasure; and he was raising his eyes
from time to time to hers--or perhaps she was in the other gardens or
alleys about the house, and that Maywood was following her at a distance,
not unobserved; or perhaps she passed close by him, and he muttered words
of admiration or even of love, and she then listened with complacency; or
perhaps the handsome young recruit whispered in her ear to ask her when he
could see her pretty face again; and she smiled on him and said, that when
his watch should be beneath her window she would come. Madness! Gerald
would pursue his vision no further. But although the clouds of the vision
rolled away, they left a dark chilling mist of suspicion upon his mind
that he could not, perhaps did not strive to, shake off.

Relieved from his guard, Gerald returned to the guard-room--his mind in
that agony of suspense and dread respecting his father, the disquietudes
of which his jealous doubts scarcely diverted for a moment, and only
rendered more hard to bear. On his way he again pas