And now we must return to the day following that night of storm and crime on the shore of Campbell's Isle.
When Edgar awoke to consciousness once more, he found himself lying on a lounge, with some one chafing his hands and temples. Unable for a moment to realize what had happened, he started up and gazed wildly around.
The first object on which his eyes rested was the pale, anxious face of his wife, as she bent over him.
That sight brought back all. With a hollow, unearthly groan, he fell back, exclaiming:
"Heaven and earth! has the grave given up its dead? Or am I dead, with my victim confronting me in another world?"
But, at the sound of his voice, Laura uttered a joyful cry, and falling on her knees beside him, clasped her arms round his neck, crying out:
"Oh, Edgar! dearest Edgar! thank Heaven you are still alive! Oh, Edgar, I was made reckless. Only forgive me for the miserable past, and, as Heaven hears me, I will never, never make you so wretched more!"
Her tone, her look, her clasp, convinced him she was really alive. With his brain burning and throbbing as though he were going mad, he started up and grasped her by the arm, while he fairly shrieked:
"Woman, do I speak to the living or the dead? Did I not murder you?"
"Dearest Edgar, no! The fall scarcely hurt me at all. It was all my own fault. Do not think of it any more, and do not speak or look so crazed and excited. Do you not see I am alive and well?"