The emotion with which Hilda spoke grew stronger. She rose to her feet, and took a step nearer to Obed. She stood there with clasped hands, her beautiful face turned toward him with deep entreaty.
Obed looked at her in a fresh bewilderment. He was silent for a long time. At last he started to his feet.
"Well, marm," said he, as he clenched his fist, "I don't understand. I can't explain. Every thing is a muddle. All I can say is this--there's either treachery or insanity somewhere, and may I be cut up into sausages and chawed up by Comanches if I'll stand this any longer. Yes," he cried, "by the Lord! I'll have this cleared up now, once and forever. I will, by the Eternal!"
He brought his huge fist down with a crash on the table, and left the room.
Hilda sat waiting.
CHAPTER LXXVIII.
"THE WIFE OF LORD CHETWYNDE."
Hilda sat waiting.
Obed had gone in search of those who could face this woman and answer her story. He went first to send word to Zillah, summoning her down. Zillah had been feebly reclining on her couch, distracted by thoughts at once perplexing and agonizing, filled with despair at the dark calamity which had suddenly descended, with a black future arising before her, when she and "Windham" were to be sundered forever. He hated her. That was her chief thought; and Windham's love had gone down in an instant before Guy's deadly abhorrence. A lighter distress might have been borne by the assistance of pride; but this was too overmastering, and pride stood powerless in the presence of a breaking heart. In such a mood as this was she when the message was brought to her which Obed had sent.
The wife of Lord Chetwynde was down stairs, and wished to see her!