"Ogden!" now called out an excited woman's voice from within the carriage. "To miss the table d'hote on account of that wretched beggar. Why it's just unpardonable!"
"That voice!... God have mercy!"
The man on the ground stammered as if struck by lightning. His eyes dilated, starting out of their sockets and staring horrified at the carriage.
"That voice," he repeated. "Could it be possible? Could she be there? Am I still under the influence of that horrible hallucination?" he moaned piteously. He could not and would not believe a word of all they told him.
Again he seemed to hear the revolting chuckle of the insolent gnomes, from the Traunstein, repeating their malignant tales of the outrageous conduct of his—
"Up with you quickly, for we'll have more rain within a short time!" said Mr. Ogden, now in a sympathetic voice, and at the same time heeding the woman's command in the carriage, which he would not have ignored for any consideration.
The coachman assisted the stranger to his seat on the box, and then Mr. Ogden entered the carriage, closing the door carefully.
Then the splendid team of horses set off like the wind. "God have pity on me! that voice!"
He could never forget the voice of that alluring siren who had goaded him on, until he saw nothing but her seductive face, listened to nothing but her deceitful declarations of love, without thinking of his mother's grief and her death!
Could it be possible? She here in that closed carriage with another man? No, no! It was another hallucination of his feverish brain.