XXV. — GOING TO REJOIN MORTIMER.
“I had not gone a hundred yards, when I heard the sound of wheels approaching.
“I had said to myself, ‘I am going back to madam; she will hear my footsteps upon the staircase; will open the door; will rush forward to embrace me, under the impression that I am her dear Mortimer, returning triumphant from the field of battle; and then a grand tableau!’ Things were destined to turn out differently, as you will see in an instant.
“The sound of wheels grew louder; a carriage appeared; and I recognized my own chariot.
“‘Why have you disobeyed my orders?’ I said to the old gray-haired driver, arresting the horses as I spoke, by violently grasping the bridles.
“The old coachman looked frightened. Then he said, in an agitated voice:—
“‘Madam ordered me to obey her, sir.’
“‘Madam?’
“‘Yes, sir.’
“‘Where is she?’
“‘In the carriage, sir. As soon as I got back, she came down to the door—ordered me to drive her to you—and I was obliged to do so, sir.’
“‘Good,’ I said, ‘you have done well.’
And opening the door of the carriage, through the glass of which I saw the pale face of the woman, I entered it, directing the coachman to drive to the ‘Hicksford Crossing.’
A hoarse, but defiant voice at my side said:—
“‘Where is Mr. Mortimer?’
“‘Gone over the river,’ I said, laughing, ‘and we are going, too.’
“‘To rejoin him?’
“‘Yes, madam.’
“The carriage had rolled on, and as it passed the grave I heard a groan.
“‘What is that?’ said she.
“‘The river is groaning over yonder, madam.’
“‘You will not attempt to pass it to-night?’
“‘Yes, madam. Are you afraid?’
“She looked at me with fiery eyes.
“‘Afraid? No!’ she said, ‘I am afraid of nothing!’
“I really admired her at that moment. She was truly brave. I said nothing, however. The carriage rolled on, and ten minutes afterward the roar of the river, now near at hand, was heard. That sound mingled with the deep bellowing of the thunder, which succeeded the dazzling flashes at every instant dividing the darkness.
“All at once my companion said:—
“‘I am tired of this—where is Mr. Mortimer?’
“‘He awaits us,’ I replied.
“‘You are going to him?’
“‘Yes.’
“We had reached the bank of the river, and, stopping the carriage, I sprung out. Madam followed me, without being invited. A small boat rose and fell on the swollen current. I detached the chain, seized a paddle, and pointed to the stern seat.
“‘The river is dangerous to-night,’ said madam, coldly.
“‘Then you are afraid, after all?’
“‘No!’ she said.
“And with a firm step she entered the boat.
“‘Go back with the carriage,’ I said to the driver. He turned the heads of the horses, and obeyed in silence.
“Madam had taken her seat in the stern of the boat. I pushed from shore into the current, and paddling rapidly to the middle of the foaming torrent, filled with drift-wood, threw the paddle overboard, and took my seat in the stern.
“As I threw away the paddle, my resolution seemed to dawn for the first time upon my companion. She had become deadly pale, but said nothing. With folded arms, I looked and listened; we were nearing a narrow and rock-studded point in the river, where there was no hope.
“The frail boat was going to be overturned there, or dashed to pieces without mercy. I knew the spot—knew that there was no hope. The torrent was roaring and driving the boat like a leaf toward the jagged and fatal rocks.
“‘Then you are going to kill me and yourself at the same time!’ she said.
“The woman was fearless.
“‘Yes,’ I said, ‘it is the only way. I could not live dishonored—you dishonored me—I die—and die with you!’
“And I rose erect, baring my forehead to the lightning.
“The point was reached. The boat swept on with the speed of a racehorse. A dazzling flash showed a dark object amid the foam, right ahead of us. The boat rushed toward it—the jagged teeth seemed grinning at us—the boat struck—and the next moment I felt the torrent sweep over me, roaring furious and sombre, like a wild beast that has caught its prey.”