And Reginald Tracy was afraid—he scarcely knew wherefore: the entire adventure of the evening appeared to be a dream.
"Yes—yes!" he suddenly exclaimed, after having steadfastly contemplated the form before him for some moments,—standing at a distance of only three or four paces,—afraid to advance nearer, unwilling to retreat altogether,—"yes!" he exclaimed, "there is something more than mere senseless marble here! The eyes shoot fire—the lips smile—the bosom heaves—— Oh! Cecilia—Cecilia, it is yourself!"
As he spoke he rushed forward: the statue burst from chill marble into warmth and life;—it was indeed the beauteous but wily Cecilia—who returned his embrace and hung around his neck;—and the rector was again subdued—again enslaved!
* * * * *
* * * * *
"And you will pardon me for the little stratagem which I adopted to bring you back to my arms?" said Cecilia.
"How can I do otherwise than pardon you?" murmured the rector, whose licentious soul was occupied only with gross delights, and who would at that moment have dared exposure and disgrace rather than tear himself away from the syren on whose bosom his head was pillowed. "Oh! Cecilia, I have had a violent struggle with my feelings; but I shall now contend against them no more. No! from this instant I abandon all hope of empire—all wish for dominion over myself: I yield myself up to the pleasures of love and to thee! Sweet Cecilia, thou hast taught me how ineffable is the bliss which mortals may taste in this world;—and after all, the sure present is preferable to the uncertain future!"
"Reginald—beloved Reginald, didst thou imagine that I would resign thee so easily as thou wouldst have resigned me!" said Lady Cecilia. "Oh! you know not the heart of woman! There were but two alternatives for me—to bring you back, or to avenge myself on you."
"Avenge yourself!" exclaimed Reginald, starting.
"Yes," replied the wily creature, purposely adopting this discourse in order to enchain her lover in future; "a woman who fondly—madly loves, as I love, Reginald—will not so willingly part with the object of her affection! What,—could you suppose that I would surrender myself to you one day to be abandoned the next? No—never, never would I permit myself to be made the victim of a caprice! You wrote to me to implore me not to seek to see you again: I requested one last interview—you refused me my demand! Then I smarted sorely; but I said to myself, 'He loves me'; and I added, 'I love him also.' I accordingly resolved to attempt one grand effort to draw the anchorite from his cell. Chance threw in my way the old woman whom I sent to you, and in whose house we now are——"
"And what chance was that?" demanded Reginald, who entertained a strong and yet unaccountable aversion for that old hag.