ht
thus be worded:--"I have it all, all. Waiting has done better for me
than acting; but now the watch is over, and the coil is laid. There
have been those who, standing on the loftiest pinnacle, have fallen
by a touch to earth; none knew the how or wherefore." And shrouding
himself closer in his wrapping mantle, he walked rapidly on till he
reached a side entrance into the gardens, which stretched for many
acres around Don Ferdinand's mansion. Here again he paused, looked
cautiously around him, then swiftly entered, and softly closed the
door behind him.

Already agitated by the effort to retain calmness during Garcia's
artful words, it was no light matter for Stanley to compose himself
for his interview with Morales. Vain was the gentle courtesy of the
latter, vain his kindly words, vain his confidential reception of the
young Englishman, to remove from Arthur's heart the wild torrent of
passion called forth by Garcia's allusion to Marie's intense love
for her husband. To any one but Morales, his abrupt and unconnected
replies, his strange and uncourteous manners, must have excited
irritation; but Don Ferdinand only saw that the young man was
disturbed and pained, and for this very reason exerted his utmost
kindliness of words and manner to draw him from, himself. They parted
after an interval of about half an hour, Morales to go to the castle
as requested; Arthur to proceed, as he thought, to the environs of the
city. But in vain did he strive with himself. The window of the room
in which he had met Don Ferdinand looked into the garden, and there,
slowly pacing a shaded path, he had recognized the figure of Marie.
The intense desire to speak with her once more, and so have the fatal
mystery solved, became too powerful for control. Every feeling of
honor and delicacy perished before it, and hardly knowing what he did,
he retraced his steps, entered unquestioned, passed through the hall
to the gardens beyond, and in less than ten minutes after he had
parted from her husband, stood in the presence of Marie.

CHAPTER XII.

"If she be false, oh, then Heaven mock itself!
I'll not believe it."

SHAKSPEARE.

Don Ferdinand had scarcely quitted his mansion ere fleet steps
resounded behind him, and turning, he beheld Don Luis Garcia, who
greeted him with such a marked expression, both in voice and face,
of sadness, that Morales involuntarily paused, and with much
commiseration inquired what had chanced.