She resisted.
“Come!” he urged.
She broke from him, crying:
“No, by heaven! Were it the only chance to save my own life, I would not go! I have done with you now, forever!”
“Good-night, then,” he told her, with a bitter sneer and a low, mocking bow. “Good-night; but you will be sorry for this! You will regret this night’s work all the days of your life. Its memory will darken the brightest day of your life!”
She did not speak, or move, as he turned upon his heel and left her.
There sounds his foot upon the stair, and next upon the gravelled walk! And now the garden-gate swings open, and the carriage-door bangs shut, after which the wheels grate upon the pebbles, and the clatter of horses’ hoofs rings out upon the midnight air. Gone! Gone!
Her head reels; all her senses seem benumbed. Not even a heavy tread through the dark entry did she hear. It was the clasp of strong arms around her which woke her from her trance.
She turned, exclaiming in alarm: “Rube! You here! You—you have heard?”