Gabrielle was silent. She could not answer in the negative, and the thought that, in truth, she had known of George's intention, at least, robbed her of her presence of mind. The low words which the young man had spoken when parting from her acquired a fatal importance now; they weighed on the young girl, and seemed to crush her with a sense of guilt.
Raven's eyes had never quitted her face. His fingers slowly relaxed; he let her hand fall, and stepped back.
"So you knew it," he said; "and with that knowledge you stood quietly by and saw me wrestle with a senseless passion; saw me finally succumb to the weakness. You allowed me to believe that my affection was returned, and so pricked me on to madness, while secretly you were counting the days and hours to the time when the blow--the mortal blow, as you fancied, should strike me. Certain of a future triumph, you could yesterday let me fold you to my breast and speak to you words of love. By Heaven! it is too much, too much!"
His voice was still constrained and low, but something in it foretold the coming outbreak.
Gabrielle felt herself powerless, defenceless, against his accusations. She made an attempt, however, to meet and refute them.
"Hear me, Arno. You are mistaken. I have not deceived you, nor betrayed you. If I knew anything----"
"Say no more!" he interrupted her, with terrible vehemence. "I will hear nothing. I know enough. Your silence just now spoke more plainly than words. Justify your conduct to him, to your 'George;' confess to him that you could not keep his secret to the last moment. He will perhaps forgive you. The warning would, any way, have come too late. This I will own, I did him an injustice in declaring him to be a commonplace person, not above the ordinary run of men. Evidently he is not afraid to leave accustomed grooves, to undertake feats which no one has ventured on before him, and which no one, I think, in future will care to emulate. He may possibly make his way with it, this young Assessor whom yesterday nobody knew, and whose name will to-morrow be in everybody's mouth, simply because he has had the audacity to whet his sword and attack me. But he will pay dearly for the notoriety, I give you my word for that. As yet I have never feared a foe, nor shrunk from a contest, and this onslaught would have moved me as little as the rest. The thought that you were in league with him, that you--you had betrayed me, this, and only this, it is which has procured my enemies the satisfaction and triumph of seeing me for once thrown off my balance."
His voice faltered a little as he spoke the last words. Through the man's fierce wrath at seeing himself, as he believed, wounded in his love as in his honour, came the sharp quivering pang of an exceeding bitter pain. At this tone Gabrielle forgot all else. She flew to him, laid her two hands on his arm, and would have spoken, have implored; but it was useless. With a rough, angry movement he freed himself, thrusting her from him.
"Go! I have been a fool, I own, but the illusion is dispelled now. I will not let myself be lured on a second time by those eyes, which have lied to me once with their feigned anxiety and tenderness. Tell your George he has not well reflected what it is to challenge me to single combat. He will soon make the experience. Between us two all is over, now and for ever!"
He went. The door fell to behind him with a crash, and Gabrielle remained alone. She looked down at the pamphlet lying on the table, at the name printed thereon, but saw neither. Echoing and re-echoing through her mind in dismal iteration came those last cruel words. Ah, yes; all was over now, now and for ever!