At last, I had told her. The dread truth which I had trembled for her to know was made known. Word by word, sentence by sentence, often hesitating, often stammering, I related our meeting, the awful struggle on the cliff with its terrible ending.
Then I felt her tremble.
"And Wilfred is dead?" she gasped.
"Dead," I repeated.
"And you killed him?"
"I—I killed him."
"Then you are a—a——"
"Yes, I am. My God, I am a murderer!"
I felt her shrink from me, I saw the blood recede from her face, and in another second she lay motionless in my arms.
I laid her gently down in an old settle, and ran into the hall shouting for help. The two women servants who had attended upon lier quickly appeared.