He had expected passionate reproaches, vehement accusations, but nothing like this. Yet, he knew, he felt, he deserved it all. Never, had his crime appeared before him, in such glaring colors before. But, outwardly, he still showed no sign of guilt, only grave surprise and offended pride.
"Miss Campbell," he said, folding his arms, coldly, "you are crazed. When you recover your senses, perhaps you will deign an explanation of your conduct. At present, you will excuse me, if I put an end to this interview; it is too painful to be prolonged."
He turned, as if to leave her; but she sprang forward and intercepted him.
"Dare to leave me!" she cried, passionately. "Never shall you quit this room, until you hear the vengeance a Campbell can take for a foul wrong, and deadly insult. Crazed, am I? Oh, you will find out, to your cost, there is method in my madness, before this interview ends. You find it painful, do you? Ha! ha! take care you do not find it more so, before we part."
She pushed the thick, clustering, black hair back off her brow, and laughed a wild, bitter laugh.
"Good heavens! she looks as though she really were mad," thought Willard, with a shudder at that hollow, unearthly laugh. "I always knew her to be a wild, fiery, passionate girl, but I never dreamed of anything like this. What, in her frenzy, may she not dare to do; for, verily, she comes of a daring race. Oh, Christie! Christie! what a storm of passion have I not raised for your sake!"
"So I can make you start and shrink already!" exclaimed Sibyl, with fierce exultation. "Oh, you will find what it is to drive Sibyl Campbell to desperation. So you thought you could make me your plaything for an hour, and then throw me aside for the first new face you encountered. Oh, potent, wise and far-seeing Willard Drummond, what a judge of character thou art!"
Her bitter mockery was worse than her first, fierce outburst of passion, and there was a terrible menace lurking, yet, in her gleaming, black eyes.
But Willard stood looking on, still unmoved, only amazed, as he stood, with one hand resting lightly on the table, looking her straight in the eye with cold hauteur.
That steady, concentrated gaze had on her the effect of mesmerism. Her mood changed, and she broke forth in a strain of passionate solemnity: