"So!" said Conrad, "that is your true face. Do you still love me as a sister her brother?"
"If you are so unbrotherly, no!" said Catherine. "But you do not know what you are saying."
"Truly not," growled Conrad.
"And not what you are doing," said Catherine. "You would otherwise be ashamed to torment a poor, helpless girl."
She leaned against the door-post, pale and trembling, her hands folded over her breast, her large eyes fixed on the angry man, who tried in vain to meet her gaze, and raved before her like a wild animal.
Then the dog dashed forward, and at the same moment the dull hoof-beats of a horse in full run became perceptible. Fear seized Catherine as to what the issue would be should Lambert now return--and it could be no other.
"Conrad!" she called; "Conrad, it is your brother."
Impelled by an overwhelming feeling she threw herself before him and wound her arms about his knees.
"Let me be!" cried Conrad.
"Not till you have sworn that you will not injure him."