"Impossible," returned the sailor in a feeble voice, and again his head sank upon the open palm of his hand.
"Do you no longer love her then?" eagerly questioned the astonished youth.
Once more Gerald raised his head, and fixed his large, dim, eyes full upon those of his brother. "To madness!" he said, in a voice, and with a look that made Henry shudder. There was a moment of painful pause. The latter at length ventured to observe.
"You speak in riddles, Gerald. If you love this Miss Montgomerie to madness, and are, as you seem to intimate loved by her in return, why not, as I have urged, marry her?"
"Because," replied the sailor, turning paler than before, and almost gasping for breath, "there is a condition attached to the possession of her hand."
"And that is?" pursued Henry inquiringly, after another long and painful pause.
"My secret," and Gerald pointed significantly to his breast.
"True," returned Henry, slightly coloring; "I had forgotten—but what condition, Gerald, (and here he spoke as if piqued at the abrupt manner in which his brother had concluded his half confidence), what condition, I ask, may a woman entitled to our respect, as well as to our love, propose, which should be held of more account than that severest of offences against the Divine will— self murder—nay, look not thus surprised, for have you not admitted that you had guiltily attempted to throw away your life—to commit suicide in short—rather than comply with an earthly condition?"
"What if in this," returned Gerald, with a smile of bitterness, "I have preferred the lesser guilt to the greater?"
"I can understand no condition, my brother, a woman worthy of your esteem could impose, which should one moment weigh in the same scale against the inexpiable crime of self destruction. But, really, all this mystery so startles and confounds me, that I know not what to think—what inference to draw."