"Are you mad, or am I?" exclaimed the affrighted girl—his calmness awed her. "I have burned that letter, you know you bade me do so."
"By heavens!" he laughed wildly, "your cold-hearted assurance proves you the most consummate deceiver in the world. Girl—woman—demon! I never bade you come—I never wrote to you; and you know I did not, but your paramour knew me safe here; and in safety lodged you here also. By heaven it was a bold, daring game, worthy a better cause!" How often, in our bitterest or most serious moments, some passage either ludicrous, or irreverent, will cross our minds; through his flitted the words of Iago,—
"She did deceive her father, marrying you!"
"Yes," he continued, following the thought, "she deceived them all, cleverly and calmly; and what wonder I should follow?"
"Oh!" cried Minnie, dropping on her knees and looking upwards; "if spirits in pain may summon their kindred from heaven, oh! my own dear mother, look on your orphan, and pity her; pray for her, mother dear—pray for her!" and, covering her face with her hands, she wept bitterly. There is not in the regions of darkness a blacker demon than jealousy; it brands all—perverts all. There was a time when a tear from Minnie would have torn his soul. Now he looked on, almost exultingly; he thought she was sorrowing for another.
"Tremenhere, Tremenhere, open the door!" exclaimed Lord Randolph without, agitatedly—he heard a woman in tears. "For heaven's sake open the door, I will explain all!"
"Oh!" ejaculated Miles in a deep tone of satisfaction, yet it seemed as a groan, "here is something tangible to deal with." And without casting a look on his sobbing wife, who was bowed to earth, he hastily unfastened the door, which she had locked to prevent Miles's egress. "Come in, my lord," he said, perfectly calm, "and witness your day's worthy occupation! Look up, woman; here is one for whom you have cast me off! You, my lord, to-day, reign master of that fickle heart; and another—and another—and another, to-morrow!" and he strode contemptuously to the fireplace; but the hands were clenched in agony, which he would let no one witness.
"Come in, Vellumy!" cried Lord Randolph, whose voice trembled. He had created a storm which was mastering him.
"Let no one else in!" shouted Miles, turning round, all his forced calm giving way to intense passion. "Or, yes," he added, springing to the door and forcing it wide open from Vellumy's grasp, who strove to close it. "Come in, one, all—all—Burton too—come, glory, triumph over the proud man biting the bitter dust of betrayed trust."
"Are you mad?" exclaimed his host, pale with agitation. "Hear me, Tremenhere; I will explain all. Vellumy knows all—we will explain."