--I am
married already! Between us there stands one who keeps us forever
asunder; _and--that--one--I--hate--worse--than--death_!"

He spoke these last words slowly, and with a savage emphasis, into
which all the intensity of his love had sent an indescribable
bitterness.

And there was one who heard those words, in whose ears they rang like
a death-knell; one crouched behind among the shrubbery, whose hands
clung to the lattice of the arbor; who, though secure in her
concealment, could scarcely hide the anguish which raged within her.
At these words the anguish burst forth. A groan escaped her, and all
her senses seemed to fail in that moment of agony.

Zillah gave a cry.

"What was that? Did you hear it?" she exclaimed, catching Lord
Chetwynde's arm.

Lord Chetwynde had heard it also. "It's nothing," said he, after
listening for a moment. "Perhaps it's one of the deer."

"I'm afraid," said Zillah.

"Afraid! Am not _I_ with you?"

"Let us go," murmured Zillah. "The place is dreadful; I can scarcely
breathe."

"Take off your mask," said Lord Chetwynde; and with trembling hands
he assisted her to remove it. His tone and manner reassured her. She
began to think that the sound was nothing after all. Lord Chetwynde
himself thought but little of it. His own excitement had been so
intense that every thing else was disregarded. He saw that she was
alarmed, but attributed this to the excitement which she had
undergone. He now did his best to soothe her, and in his newfound
calm he threw away that impetuosity which had so overpowered her. At
last she regained something like her former self-possession.

"We must go back," said he at length. "Wait here a few moments, and I
will go up the path a short distance to see if the way is clear."

He went out, and went, as he said, a little distance up the path.

Scarcely had his footsteps died out in the distance when Zillah heard
a noise directly behind her. She started. In her agitated state she
was a prey to any feeling, and a terror crept over her. She hastened
out with the intention of following Lord Chetwynde.

The figure, crouching low behind the arbor, had seen Lord Chetwynde's
departure. Now her time had come--the time for vengeance! His bitter
words had destroyed all hope, and all of that patient cunning which
she might otherwise have observed. Blind with rage and passion, there
was only one thought in her mind, and that was instant and immediate
vengeance. She