As the summer days came on, she would see him disappear through the green door of the wood at morning and return by it at evening; but all the day each had been alone, Beatrice alone with a solitude in which was now no longer any Wonder. The summer beauty gave her courage, but she knew that the end could not be very far away.
One day there had been that in Antony's manner which had more than usually alarmed her, and when night fell and he had not returned, she went up the wood in search of him, her heart full of forebodings. As she neared the châlet she seemed to hear voices. No! there was only one voice. Antony was talking to some one. Careful to make no noise, she stole up to the window and looked in. The sight that met her eyes filled her with a great dread. "O God, he is going mad," she cried to herself.
Antony was sitting in a big chair drawn up to the fire. Opposite to him, lying back in her cushions, was the Image draped in a large black velvet cloak. A table stood between them, and on it stood two glasses, and a decanter nearly empty of wine, Silencieux's glass stood untasted, but Antony had evidently been drinking deeply, for his cheeks were flushed and his eyes wild.
He was speaking in angry, passionate, despairing tones. One of her strange moods of silence had come upon Silencieux, and she lay back in her pillows stonily unresponsive.
"For God's sake speak to me," Antony cried. "I love you with my whole heart. I have sacrificed all I love for your sake. I would die for you this instant—yes! a hundred thousand deaths. But you will not answer me one little word—"
But there was no answer.
"Silencieux! Have you ceased to love me? Is the dream once more at an end, the magic faded? Oh, speak—tell me—anything—only speak!" But still Silencieux neither spoke nor smiled.
"Listen, Silencieux," at last cried Antony, beside himself, "unless you answer me, I will die this night, and my blood shall be upon your cruel altar for ever."
As he spoke he snatched a dagger from among some bibelots on his mantel, and drew it from its sheath.
"You are proud of your martyrs," he laughed; "see, I will bleed to death for your sake. In God's name speak."