How perfectly he played his part, and how cunningly Bainrothe had contrived to convey to me his menace—real, or assumed for effect, I could not tell which, for my judgment spoke one language, my cowardice another! Yet, I confess, that the panic was complete, though I concealed it from the enemy.
"Women usually, at least romantic and incredulous women like me, demand some proof of a lover's devotion," I resumed, as coolly as I could, "before yielding him their faith and fealty; but Mr. Gregory has given me no evidence so far of the sincerity of his passion; I confess I find it difficult, under the circumstances, to believe in its existence."
He drew near to me, bent eagerly above me, then again concealed himself, as it was wise for him to do, in shadow; and I could hear his hissing breath, as it passed between his closed teeth—like that of a roused serpent. The impulse of the man came near betraying him, but he rallied and refrained from an exposure, as he would have supposed it, that must have been fatal to his success as a lover, even if it confirmed his power of possession.
His tones, low and deep, were unmistakably those of suppressed passion when he spoke again, and he had almost dropped his accent, so wonderfully assumed.
"When shall he come to you, and speak for himself? Let me take to him some word of encouragement from your lips—for de love of whom—he languishes—he dies! All other passions of his life have proved like cobwebs, compared to this—avarice, ambition, revenge, all yield before it! He is your slave! Do not trample on a fervent heart, thus laid at your feet! Have mercy on this unfortunate!"
"Strange language from a captor to a captive—mocking language, that I find unendurable! Let Mr. Gregory remain where he is until the extreme limit of the interval granted me by Basil Bainrothe—as breathing-space before execution; and before hope expires in thick darkness—then let him come and take what he will find of the victim of so much perfidy!"
"You do not—you cannot—meditate personal violence, self-murder?" He spoke in a voice of agony, that could scarcely be restrained from breaking into its natural tones.
"No—no—do not flatter yourselves that I could be driven by you—by any one to such God-offending," I hastened to say, for I felt the importance of keeping this barrier of disguise, of ice, between Gregory and myself as a means of safety for a season, and determined that he should not transcend it, if I could prevent an exposé, such as his excited feelings made imminent. "My hopes are dead—say this to Mr. Gregory—and I have reason to believe I should fare as well in his hands as in any other's, knowing him—as I know him to be—" and I hesitated here for a moment—"gentle, compassionate, faithful, where his feelings are fairly enlisted."
"He thanks you, through my lips, most lovely lady, for dis great proof of consideration; dis' message, which I shall truthfully deliver, will fill his heart with joy, long a stranger to his breast, for he has feared your hatred."
"Now go, Dr. Englehart, and let no one come to me without previous warning, for I need all my strength to bear me up in this emergency. Nor would I meet Mr. Gregory without due preparation—even of apparel," and I glanced at my dress of spotted lawn, faded and unseasonable as it seemed in the autumn weather. "I know his fastidiousness on this subject, and from this time it ought to, it must be my study to try to please him."