CHAPTER VIL

** Queen, Whereon do you look ? Hamlet, On him, on him,—look you how pale he glares !"— Hamlet.
PERHAPS to Maltravers those few minutes which ensued, as
they walked slowly on, compensated for all the troubles and
cares of years; for natures like his feel joy even yet more intensely than sorrow. It might be that the transport—the
_ delirium of passionate and grateful thoughts that he poured
forth-—when at last he could summon words—expressed feel-
ings the young Evelyn could not comprehend, and which less delighted than terrified her with the new responsibility she had incurred. But love so honest—so generous—so intense—dazzled and bewildered and carried her whole soul away. Certainly at that hour she felt no regret—no thought but that one in whom she had so long recognised something nobler than is found in the common world—was thus happy and thus made happy by a word—a look from her! Such a thought is woman’s dearest
triumph,—and one so thoroughly unselfish—so yielding and so
soft—could not be insensible to the rapture she had caused.
“And oh!” said Maltravers, as he clasped again and again the hand that he believed he had won for ever, “now, at length, have I learned how beautiful is life! For this—for this I have been reserved! Heaven is merciful to me—and the waking world is brighter than all my dreams!” .
He ceased abruptly. At that instant they were once more on the terrace where he had first joined Teresa—facing the wood —which was divided by a slight and low palisade from the spot where they stood. He ceased abruptly, for his eyes encountered a terrible and ominous apparition—a form connected with dreary associations of fate and woe. The figure had raised itself upon a pile of firewood on the other side of the fence, and hence it seemed almost gigantic in its stature. It gazed upon the pair
with eyes that burned with a preternatural blaze, and a voice which Maltravers too well remembered, shrieked out—* Love— z love What! shou love again? Where is the Dead! Ha! hal Where is the Dead?” | Evelyn, startled by the words, looked up, and clung in "speechless terror to Maltravers. He remained rooted to the spot. “Unhappy man,” said he, at length, and soothe’); “how came you hither? Fly not, you are with friends.” = Friends!” said the maniac, with a scornful laugh, “I 7 know thee, Ernest Maltravers,—I know thee: but is it not
_ by side with the mocking fiend! Friends!—ah, but no
_ Friends shall catch me now! I am free—I am free!—air
7 and wave are not more free!” And the madman laughed
a with horrible glee. “She is fair—fair,” he said, abruptly
x checking himself, and with a changed voice, “ but not so fair as
- the Dead. Faithless that thou art—and yet she loved shee!
~ Woe to thee !—woe—Maltravers, the perfidious! Woe to thee
_—and remorse—and shame !”
“Fear not, Evelyn,—fear not,” whispered Maltravers, gently, and placing oop behind him; “support your courage—nothing ‘Shall harm you.”
_ Evelyn, though very pale, and trembling from head to foot,
retained her senses. Maltravers advanced towards the madman.
But no sooner did the quick eye of the last perceive the move-
ment, than, with the fear which belongs to that dread disease—
the fear of losing liberty, he turned, and, with a loud cry, fled into the wood. Maltravers leaped over the fence, and pursued him some way in vain. The thick copses of the wood snatched
_ every trace of the fugitive from his eye.
a Breathless and exhausted, Maltravers returned to the spot
where he had left Evelyn. As he reached it, he saw Teresa and
4 her husband approaching towards him, and Teresa’s merry
- laugh sounded clear and musical in the racy air. The sound
appalled him—he hastened his steps to Evelyn.
“Say nothing of wee we have seen to Madame de Mon-
E taigne, I beseech you,” said he; “I will explain why hereafter.”
__ Evelyn, too overcome to speak, nodded her acquiescence.

-
= oo 5 - By. Ze
a 3
bia Th ates Sr
thou who hast locked me up in darkness and in hell, side —
_ Frenchman aside. _ But before he could address him, De Montaigne sta “Hush! do not alarm my wife—she knows one § have just heard at Paris, that—that he has escaped—you nc whom I mean ?” ; | - “T do—he is at hand—send in search of him!—I Hate $ seen E E * him. Once more I have seen Castruccio Cesarini!” Be
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