the interest of her narrative that if M. Wilkie's heart was not exactly
touched, he was, as he afterward confessed, at least rather interested.
But Madame d'Argeles seemed to have forgotten his existence. She wiped
away the foam-flecked blood which had risen to her lips, and in the same
mournful voice resumed her story.

"When I regained my senses it was morning, and I was lying, still
dressed, on a bed in a strange room. Arthur Gordon was standing at the
foot of the bed anxiously watching my movements. He did not give me time
to question him. 'You are in my house,' said he. 'Your brother is dead!'
Almighty God! I thought I should die as well. I hoped so. I prayed
for death. But, in spite of my sobs, he pitilessly continued: 'It is a
terrible misfortune which I shall never cease to regret. And yet, it was
his own fault. You, who witnessed the scene, know that it was so.
You can still see on my face the mark of the blow he dealt me. I only
defended myself and you.' I was ignorant then of the accepted code of
duelling. I did not know that by throwing himself upon my brother before
he was on guard, Arthur Gordon had virtually assassinated him. He relied
upon my ignorance for the success of the sinister farce he was playing.
'When I saw your brother fall,' he continued, 'I was wild with terror;
and not knowing what I did, I caught you up in my arms and brought you
here. But don't tremble, I know that you are not in my house of your own
free will. A carriage is below and awaits your orders to convey you
to your parents' home. It will be easy to find an explanation for last
night's catastrophe. Slander will not venture to attack such a family
as yours.' He spoke in the constrained tone, and with that air which a
brave man, condemned to death, would assume in giving utterance to his
last wishes. I felt as if I were going mad. 'And you!' I exclaimed,
'you! What will become of you?' He shook his head, and with a look
of anguish, replied: 'Me! What does it matter about me! I am ruined
undoubtedly. So much the better. Nothing matters now that I must live
apart from you'! Ah! he knew my heart. He knew his power! Swayed by an
emotion which was madness rather than heroism, I sprang toward him, and
clasped him in my arms: 'Then I, too, am lost!' I cried. 'Since fate
united us, nothing but death shall separate us. I love you. I am your
accomplice. Let the curse fall upon both!'

"A keen observer would certainly have detected a gleam of