ing us for ever. She
it was who intercepted and destroyed the letter you wrote to
me a fortnight ago; and she had the audacity to admit this
iniquity, when last night I charged her with it. She gloried
in the act, and cast back in my teeth the reproaches I
addressed to her. Then, in my fury, I spoke out. I tore aside
the veil from Alice's eyes. I broke my promises. I told the
mother of my child why, and how, I had married her. I saw her
tremble with horror, and turn from me with shuddering
aversion, when I proclaimed in her pure ears my guilty passion
for you, and my resolution, strong as death, never to give you
up. I have broken every tie; I have renounced every duty; and
now you _must_ be mine--you _shall_ be mine. I have long been
your slave, but I knew it must come to this at last. You have
struggled in vain; you cannot escape me. My love must be the
bane of your life or its joy--its ruin or its glory; and
unrequited as it has been, it yet has stood, and will stand,
between you and your husband to the day of your death, and
turn your wedded joys into deadly poisons."

"Your power is gone--your threats are vain; I defy your
vengeance; I scorn your hatred. Denounce me to the world and
to Edward. Tell them all that it was not love, but terror that
made me tremble before you. Tell them that you have tortured
me, and that I have writhed in agonies under your secret
power. Tell them that my soul has been wrung, that my heart
has been bruised. Tell them that you have changed my nature
and made me what I am; and then let Edward, and the world, and
Heaven itself, judge between you and me."

"You defy my vengeance? You scorn my hatred? Am I not _here_,
weak and imprudent woman? Have you not written to me letters
of frantic entreaty? Have you not broken the commands of your
despotic and jealous husband? You have not been wise in your
anger, or prudent in your wrath."

"You have no power against me if I confess the whole truth to
Edward,--if I kneel at his feet--"

"And perjure yourself!"

"Oh, talk not to me of perjury,--talk not to me of crime. You
have steeped yourself in guilt and iniquity; and be my sin
what it may, upon _your_ head it shall rest if you drive me to
this act,--if you refuse to release me--"

A dreadful smile curled Henry's lip; and he said, with a
sneer, "What an admirably got-up story this will be for
Edward! It is a pity you did not think of it sooner. It would
have appeared more plausible th