Again Gloria paused, and David Lindsay inquired:
“And was there a reconciliation between this ill-sorted pair?”
“I do not know. I never even heard whether he saw her again on the morning after the orgie, or whether he took leave of her before setting out on his journey with the revellers. She grew very quiet in his absence.”
Once more Gloria sank into silence. Once more the young man prompted her to continue, saying:
“Well, and when this demon of Gryphynshold came back?”
“Oh, David Lindsay, what next happened is so horrible—so horrible that I shrink from speaking of it,” she said, with a shudder.
“Then do not, lady dear,” he answered, gently.
“Oh, but I must! It is on my mind and it must out! I have heard that he came back in the middle of a January night—a bitter cold, freezing night. His face, they say, was as black as a thunder cloud, and his eyes flashed like lightning. Without deigning a word to one of the servants, who came to attend him, he strode at once to the chamber of his poor young victim and ordered her to get up and dress herself, for she should leave his house that night!”
“What an unheard-of monster!” exclaimed David Lindsay.
“Oh, what a wretched maniac! for no man in his senses would have acted with such causeless cruelty. In vain the poor creature pleaded to know what she had done to offend him. He only cursed her and threatened to throw her from the window unless she dressed and departed at once. In vain she wept and begged to stay till morning. He told her, with many fierce curses, that by this delay she only trifled with his temper and her own life. Oh! oh, David Lindsay, he thrust that delicate creature forth in the freezing air of that bitter January night to perish on the mountains!” exclaimed Gloria, who had forgotten all her own troubles in recalling this horrible story.