"I will leave you, then," said the lady, kissing Marearet's forehead.
"May Heaven bless you!"
Count Esterhazy was now alone with his wife. With a radiant smile and both hands outstretched, he came toward her.
"Welcome to my house, beautiful Margaret! From this hour you reign supreme in the palace of the Esterhazys."
The countess stepped back. "Do not dare to touch my hand. A gulf yawns between us; and if you attempt to bridge it, I will throw you, headlong, into its fiery abyss."
"What gulf? Point it out to me, that I may bridge it with my love," cried Esterhazy.
"The gulf of my contempt," said she, coldly. "You are a coward and a liar. You have deceived a woman who trusted herself to your honor; and God in heaven, who would not hear my prayers, God shall be the witness of my vengeance. Oh, you shall repent from this hour to come, that ever you called me wife! I scorn to be a liar like you, and I tell you to beware. I will revenge myself for this accursed treachery."
"I do not fear your revenge, for you have a noble heart. The day will come when I shall be forgiven for my deception. Heaven is always clement toward the repentant sinner; and you are my heaven, Margaret. I await the day of mercy."
"Such mercy as Heaven has shown to me, I shall show to you," cried she.
"And now, sir, leave this room. I have nothing more to say to you."
"What, Margaret!" said Esterhazy, with an incredulous smile, "you would deny me the sweet right of visiting your room? Chide, if you will; but be not so cruel. Let me have the first kiss—"
As he attempted to put his arms around her, Margaret uttered a fearful cry. Freeing herself with such violence that Esterhazy reeled backward with the shock, she exclaimed: