I cursed that, and tried to separate it from me--to cast it aside, but I could not. I knew, no matter what she did, no matter where she was, no matter were she now in his arms, with his kisses on her lips, that I loved her. For, when a man loves, he loves not always with wisdom.
I did not think of her as false to me. I believed she had fled with him after trying to elude his temptation. For it would appear she started from Salem loving me, and I hugged that cold comfort to my heart.
Despair, hope, then despair again had been my feelings that day. Now came a new one, revenge. If I could not have Lucille I would have her lover, and I laughed aloud as I thought how pleasant it would be to have him at my sword point.
I saw him shifting back from my attack. I saw the terror in his eyes, I saw his futile effort to parry my fierce thrust, I heard Lucille cry out, and then--and then I felt my keen weapon sheath itself in his heart.
Down he fell at my feet a shapeless mass, his red, warm lips, that she had kissed, growing cold and white.
And I laughed aloud.
A sorry uncanny mirth it must have been, for it made Kit prick up her ears and break into a trot.
Now I thought I would live but for one end--to kill Sir George. But to do that I must find him. I have ever believed that good wine is, in moderation, a safe friend. Over a glass or two I knew I could better think of what I might do next, for I had resolved to follow Sir George--and Lucille.
I went to the tavern I had left a little while before, and, while sipping my wine, I fell to thinking of a remark Nanette had made while there, of how she had heard that her mistress had taken a boat near the tavern. In the excitement of what she told me after that I had forgotten to ask the servant what she meant by it, and where she had heard the rumor.
While thus musing and grumbling at my stupidity I heard two men talking in the room next to mine. The voices rose in anger now and then, and seemed to be in dispute over the division of some money. At length one of the men cried out: