and yet the fault is all my own. And I must pay the penalty; must tread the path of sorrow to the end. This is a rude awakening of my dream. I once had thought to greet my lord with gleaming eyes, with passion, strong yet tender. Tonight he comes, and I am full of fear and trembling."
She heard a slight noise.
"Is that you, Paul?"
Instead of Paul, Horatio Nugent stepped out from the darkness. His eye was full of strange, unnatural brilliance, but his face was drawn, pinched and haggard. At his appearance, Ouida's heart almost ceased to beat; she was so full of horror and despair. She expected Paul at almost any moment. She knew his nature when once aroused, and she was ashamed within herself to confess that she feared a collision between the two men, more for the sake of the preacher than for her now lawfully wedded husband.
When Ouida asked if it was Paul, the preacher said: "No, it is I, whose death you seal tonight."
"My God! what brings you here?" said Ouida.
"You will not let me live," said he, "so I have come to end existence at your feet."
"And I," commanded the woman, with wondrous dignity, "pronounce against such base-born cowardice. You build your grief up mountain high, and then make oath you stand alone."
"I will not argue this thing with you. I am determined on my course."
"Unhappy man," she said, with mighty pity, "do you think you bear all the agony of this dream? I, too, am full of sorrow as deep and black as night."
