“I knew it. I felt assured of that. And how did it end?”
Upon this the earl made a clean breast of it, and made Theresa acquainted with every minute particular connected with the tragedy in which he had played so conspicuous a part.
His companion listened to the harrowing details with forced calmness.
She did not betray outwardly any great emotion, but a heavy weight seemed to fall upon her, and she was supremely miserable.
“What a dreadful ending—what a terrible calamity! Poor Gerome! He was true to the last, then?”
“He was determined to have my life if possible; failing that, he was prepared to render up his own. The end was inevitable. Do not blame me, Theresa.”
“I do not blame you, but what a risk you have run! Alas, you did not know the sort of man you had to deal with. Gracious Heaven! how very terrible is all this! But you must not stay in this neighbourhood. His death will be avenged. There are those who will watch and wait for you—those who will not scruple to slay you without pity or remorse. Oh, my dear Reginald, beware in time. Take heed of what I say ere it is too late. Your life may be sacrificed without a moment’s notice. You do not know the sanguinary nature of those who watch and waylay unwary travellers in the mountain fastnesses. You are utterly heedless of the risk you run. They would not scruple to take your life to make reprisals for the loss of their comrade. You must not remain here. It would be madness to do so. But oh, how terribly hard it is for me to part with you. But it must be done, indeed it must, dearest. Consider——”
“I have considered,” exclaimed the earl; “and I am well capable of taking care of myself.”
“You are powerless in such a case as this. No man can guard against treachery—not the most valiant. You must not—nay, you shall not—remain here.”
“Whither would you have me fly, then?”