"Frank—die!" she gasped. "No, no; not that! Tell me that you did not mean it, that you said it only to frighten me."
He put her imploring hand away with a bitter sneer.
"You would make a good actress," he said, "do you mean to tell me that you were not counting on his death? Do you mean to tell me that you would not have wound up the scene by begging for more time—time to allow you to escape, as you would call it! You think that once the boy is dead you can slip from your bargain and laugh at me! You are mistaken; since the bargain was struck, I have strove, as no man ever strove, to make it easy for you, to win your love, because I loved you. I love you no longer, but I will not let you go. Love you! As there is a Heaven above us, I hate you to-night, but you shall not go."
She shrank from him cowering, as he towered above her, like some beautiful maiden in the old myths shrinking from some devouring monster.
"Listen to me," he said, hoarsely, "to-morrow I either give this paper"—and he snatched the forged bill from his breast pocket and struck it viciously with his quivering hand—"I either give it into your hands as my wife, or I give it to the nearest magistrate. The boy will die! It rests with you whether he dies at peace or in a jail."
White and trembling she sat and looked at him.
"This is my answer to your pretty prayer," he said, with a bitterness incredible. "It is for you to decide—I use no further argument. Soft speeches and loving words are thrown away upon you; besides, the time has passed for them. There is no love, no particle of love, in my heart for you to-night—I simply stand by my bond."
She did not answer him, she scarcely heard him; she was thinking of that sad face that had appeared to her for a moment as if in reproach, and vanished ghost-like; and it was to it that she murmured:
"Oh, my love—my love!"
He heard her; and his face quivered with speechless rage; then he laughed.