e
time in his power, a Satanic joy possessed him, and made him toy with
the situation, in order to prolong it as far as possible.

"Let me insist on your being my guest as long as you stay!" he leered,
trying no longer to cloak the wicked passion which seethed in his
tainted soul. "I have wine--refreshments. Come into the parlour where we
can talk undisturbed."

A feeling of actual physical nausea shook Julia. She grasped the pommel
of her saddle and swayed the least bit, then the sickness passed, and
she was erect again, though whiter than one dead. She seemed the wraith
of the girl who had ridden down the road. She did not know why this man
should insist so strongly on her entering his door. She knew that he had
pretended to love her, but that was over now, and gone. They had not
seen each other for months. He could not wish to entertain her for any
worthy reason, and though she could neither comprehend nor even suspect
the depths of vileness in his heart, she knew that she had best remain
where she was.

"Please don't insist," she pleaded, her voice slightly tremulous in
spite of her will. "I must speak quickly, and be gone. I do not feel
that I have come to ask a favour, but simply to ask you to do right.
Won't you please have the dividend declared at the bank, instead of
passing it? You know it means very much to father and me."

Although she endeavoured to present her cause coolly, her voice was that
of a suppliant. It vibrated with pent-up emotion, and had a strange
effect upon the man before her. His expression changed; his hands
clenched at his sides, and he seemed battling with some internal
feeling. He had taken his eyes from her, too, and was looking at the
ground. But as she watched him, waiting breathlessly for his answer, he
lifted his face again, and she almost cried out from terror, for she was
in the presence of an incarnate fiend. His eyes seemed swimming in fire,
and his countenance was that of a demon. He did not move nor speak for
several moments; he was literally holding himself in his tracks. He was
a moral outlaw; the lawless offspring of lawless parents; begotten in
basest sin and nurtured in infamy. He had never put the slightest check
on any of his wishes or desires. With him desire had always meant
gratification. And now, in the murky gloom of his black soul's recesses
a new desire had been born; or, rather, a new flame had been given to an
old desire. Even when driven from Major Dudley'