What she saw there was not calculated to extinguish the fearful fire that consumed her. On the contrary, like the collision of the falling timbers, it had the effect of stirring it to increased strength and fierceness.
Kate Vaughan had raised herself from her reclining position, and was sitting upright on the bamboo settee. Herbert was by her side, also seated. Their bodies were in contact—the arm of the young man softly encircling the waist of his cousin. It would have been evident to the most uninterested observer that their hearts were equally en rapport; that between them was a tie—the strongest on earth—the tie of mutual love!
It needed no reasoning on the part of Judith Jessuron to arrive at this conclusion.
The tableau was typical. It was a picture that required no explanation, nor did she who looked upon it ask for any.
She did not even stay to notice the brown-skinned damsel, who seemed to be guarding the entrance of the kiosk; but, springing past her, she stood in a defiant attitude in the presence of the lovers.
“Herbert Vaughan!” cried she, in a tone of bitter abandonment; “traitor! perjured villain! you have been false to me—”
“It is not true, Judith Jessuron!” cried the young man, interrupting her, and, as soon as he had recovered from his surprise, springing to his feet. “It is not true. I—I never intended—”
“Ha!” screamed the Jewess, her rage apparently becoming more fierce at the attempted explanation; “never intended what?”
“Never intended to marry you. I never gave you promise—”
“False!” cried Judith, once more interrupting him. “No matter now—it is all past; and since you never intended to marry me, she at least will never be your wife!”