“My love to him, and his trust for me, sir!”
“His trust? Have you forgotten, madam, what passed last week, and why he sailed yesterday?”
The only answer was a burst of tears. Eustace stood watching her with a terrible eye; but they could see his face writhing in the moonlight.
“Oh!” sobbed she at last. “And if I have been imprudent, was it not natural to wish to look once more upon an English ship? Are you not English as well as I? Have you no longing recollections of the dear old land at home?”
Eustace was silent; but his face worked more fiercely than ever.
“How can he ever know it?”
“Why should he not know it?”
“Ah!” she burst out passionately, “why not, indeed, while you are here? You, sir, the tempter, you the eavesdropper, you the sunderer of loving hearts! You, serpent, who found our home a paradise, and see it now a hell!”
“Do you dare to accuse me thus, madam, without a shadow of evidence?”
“Dare? I dare anything, for I know all! I have watched you, sir, and I have borne with you too long.”