“No, no; that is why I followed you to-night. Hilary, I knew that you were not like those others.”
“You knew that! Then——”
“No, no; listen. I have a feeling in me sometimes that I am a woman who is fatal to men—fatal to those who love me. A month ago I might not have cared, but now I care too much. Hilary, promise never to see me again.”
He gave a grim yet exultant laugh.
“That is impossible. Judith, I will break this fate of yours.”
He drew closer, but she put him back with her hands.
“No, no; have I not told you that this man is a devil? No one in these parts would dare to cross him. He can shoot as no mortal man should shoot, and they say that the best French swordsmen could not touch him. It is death.”
He drew himself up, and his eyes smiled suddenly.
“If it be death, well, what of that! My love is greater than Severn’s love. I, too, can use foil or pistol, and a cavalry sabre is like neither of these. I shall fight this man.”
She stood white and mute a moment, her hands hanging limply. Then suddenly her hands were upon his shoulders, her passionate face looking into his.