"What is it?" she gasped.
"You guilty woman!" cried Eugene Mallard—"you cruel, guilty woman, I have interrupted you in your preparation for flight, it seems!"
His stern face, the anger that shone in his eyes, and the harsh voice frightened her. She shrunk back as though he had struck her. Her lips parted as though she would speak; but all sound died away on them.
"It is time," said Eugene Mallard, "that we came to a clear understanding. In every way you have deceived me! I have been fatally betrayed! Your shameless flirtation has tarnished my name and lowered my position! I am ashamed to look men in the face! Where is he?" he demanded, looking about him, as though he expected to see Arthur Hollis in the room.
"Down by the brook," she faltered.
Eugene laughed a harsh, satirical laugh.
"He must have seen me coming while he waited there for you, and fled from my wrath." He turned on his heel. "I repeat, if you stir from this room until I give you leave, it will end in a tragedy!"
In his anger, he did not see that he was trampling under foot a noble heart. If she had been able to calmly explain to him just what had occurred, she might have been saved. She attempted to speak, but he held up his hand.
"Not one word!" he cried. "I will not listen!"
He turned suddenly, hurried from the room, closed the door after him, and went quickly to his library, where he could be alone.