"No, I confess I had not," he answered readily. "I considered her to be entirely a victim to her brother's scientific experiments. I thought, by making her my wife, to release her from such tyranny and give her rescue and refuge. To this end I found out all I could from—HIM"—he approached the name of Heliobas with reluctance—"and I made up my mind that her delicate imagination had been morbidly excited; but that marriage and a life like that led by other women would bring her to a more healthy state of mind."
I smiled with a little scorn.
"Your presumption was almost greater than your folly, Prince," I said, "that with such ideas as these in your mind you could dream of winning Zara for a wife. Do you think she could have led a life like that of other women? A frivolous round of gaiety, a few fine dresses and jewels, small-talk, society scandal, stale compliments—you think such things would have suited HER? And would she have contented herself with a love like yours? Come! Come and see how well she has escaped you!"
And I beckoned him towards the door. He hesitated.
"Where would you take me?" he asked.
"To the chapel. Zara's body lies there."
He shuddered.
"No, no—not there! I cannot bear to look upon her perished loveliness—to see that face, once so animated, white and rigid—death in such a form is too horrible!"
And he covered his eyes with his hand—I saw tears slowly drop through his fingers. I gazed at him, half in wonder, half in pity.
"And yet you are a brave man!" I said.