"Gerald, my husband!" urged Matilda, rapidly changing her tone into that of earnest persuasion, "wherefore do you hesitate? Am I not your wife, your own wife, and is not yon monster the wretch who has consigned my fair fame to obloquy for ever—Gerald!" she added, impetuously.
But the spell had lost its power, and Gerald continued immoveable—apparently fixed to the spot on which he stood.
"Gerald, Gerald!" repeated the officer, with the air of one endeavoring to recollect.
At the sound of that voice Gerald looked up. The moon was at that moment unobscured by a single cloud, and as the eyes of the murderer and his intended victim met, their recognition was mutual and perfect.
"I had never expected to see Lieutenant Grantham figuring in the character of an assassin," said Colonel Forrester, in a voice of deep and bitter reproach, "still less to find his arm raised against the preserver of his life. This," he continued, as if speaking to himself, "will be a bitter tale to recount to his family."
"Almighty God, have mercy!" exclaimed Gerald as, overcome with shame and misery, he threw himself upon the earth at its full length, his head nearly touching the feet of the officer. Then clasping his feet—"Oh, Colonel Forrester, lost, degraded as I am, believe me when I swear that I knew not against whom my arm was to be directed. Nay, that you live at this moment is the best evidence of the truth of what I utter, for I came with a heart made up to murder. But your blood worlds could not tempt me to spill."
"I believe you," said the American feelingly. "Well do I know the arts of the woman who seems to have lured you into the depths of crime; yet low as you are fallen, Lieutenant Grantham—much as you have disgraced your country and profession, I cannot think you would willingly have sought the life of him who saved your own. And now rise, sir, and gain the place of your abode, before accident bring other eyes than my own to be witnesses of your shame. We will discourse of this to-morrow. Meanwhile, be satisfied with my promise that your attempt shall remain a secret with myself."
While he spoke, Colonel Forrester made a movement as if to depart. Aroused by the apprehension of losing her victim, Matilda, who had hitherto been an impatient listener, called wildly upon Gerald, who had now risen, to fulfil his compact; but the youth turned from her with a movement of disgust, exclaiming, with bitterness—"leave me, woman, leave me!"
Matilda looked after him for an instant with an expression of intensest scorn; then springing to, and snatching up the dagger, which lay glittering a few paces from the spot on which she stood, she advanced silently, but rapidly upon her retreating enemy. Colonel Forrester had gained his threshold, and had already knocked for admittance, when he heard the deep voice of Matilda at his ear, exclaiming, in a triumphant tone.
"Think you twice, then, to escape your doom, traitor?"