spite of yourself. Listen. I do not threaten; I know you well
enough to be certain that such an argument would be the strongest
temptation to you to persevere in taking your own course. I simply tell
you what I will do. I shall speak to your brother first; if he can not
understand his duty, or shrinks from it, I will carry out what I believe
to be mine. I utterly disapprove of and despise the practice of dueling,
but, at any risk, I _will_ stand between you and Major Keene. He shall
not gain possession of you while I am alive. When I am dead, if you
touch his hand, you shall know that my blood is upon it, and the guilt
shall be on your own head. I believe that in keeping you apart I should
act kindly toward both. I do him this justice--it would make him
miserable to see you pining away. There are limits to human endurance,
and you are too proud to bear dishonor."

Cecil felt that every word he had spoken was good and true, and that he
would not waver in his purpose for an instant. She remembered how, when
they were returning together four days ago, the sidelong glance of a
matronly Pharisee had lighted on her in a spiteful triumph, and how,
though neither of them alluded to it afterward, the dark-red flash of
anger had mounted to Royston's forehead. She had ceased to care for
herself, but could she not save _him_ while yet there was time? And
more--had she not wrought wrong enough to Mark Waring without having his
murder on her soul? for she never doubted as to the result if those two
should meet as foes.

They talk of hair that has grown gray in the briefest space of mental
anguish. It is all a delusion and an old wife's fable. When Cecil rose
the next morning there was not a silver line in her tresses. Outward
signs of the mortal struggle, while it lasted, there were none, for her
clasped hands veiled her face jealously; when she raised it, her cheek
was paler than death and wet with an awful dew, and when she spoke her
voice retained not one cadence of its wonted melody.

"You have prevailed, as the truth always ought to prevail. Now tell me
what to do."

Mark Waring would have drained his heart's blood drop by drop to have
lightened one throb of her agony, but he never thought of flinching from
his purpose.

"There are perils where the only safety lies in flight. You must leave
this before Major Keene returns, and he returns to-morrow."

Perhaps I have failed in making you understand one hereditary
peculiari