For several moments they stood side by side without exchanging a word, and, indeed, no speech would have been audible amid the almost continuous crashing of the thunder-peals. Then, as the first violence of the storm expended itself, Esmay heard her name uttered, and realized that Ulick was holding her hand in both his own.
"Don't!" she pleaded, and drew her hand away.
Ulick's face hardened. "I might have known it," he said, bitterly. "Yet he who has been false to friendship may betray love as well."
"He is dead," she said, and Ulick started.
"Constans—dead!" he stammered.
"Hanged at the yard-arm of the Black Swan. But Quinton Edge still lives."
"You loved him?" persisted Ulick, the sense of his injury still strong within him.
The girl drew herself up proudly. "Yes, I loved him—that is for you and all the world to know. But be comforted; he cared not a whit for me. That, in the end, was made plain enough."
Ulick's fare was pale. "But he still stands between us?" he said.
"Yes," she answered, simply.