sharply, "but I have the same qualities as heretofore.

"Am I to understand, then," cried Amabel, a fearful suspicion of the
truth breaking upon her, "that you never sincerely repented your former
actions?"

"You are to understand it," replied Rochester.

"And you deceived me when you affirmed the contrary?"

"I deceived you," he replied.

"I begin to suspect," she cried, with a look of horror and doubt, "that
the attack of the plague was feigned."

"You are not far wide of the truth," was the reply.

"And our marriage?" she cried--"our marriage? Was that feigned
likewise?"

"It was," replied Rochester, calmly.

Amabel looked at him fixedly for a few minutes, as if she could not
credit his assertion, and then receiving no contradiction, uttered a
wild scream, and rushed out of the room. Rochester followed, and saw her
dart with lightning swiftness across the court-yard. On gaining the
street, he perceived her flying figure already at some distance; and
greatly alarmed, started in pursuit. The unfortunate girl was not
allowed to proceed far. Two persons who were approaching, and who proved
to be Etherege and Pillichody, caught hold of her, and detained her till
Rochester came up. When the latter attempted to touch her, she uttered
such fearful shrieks, that Etherege entreated him to desist. With some
difficulty she was taken back to the house. But it was evident that the
shock had unsettled her reason. She alternately uttered wild, piercing
screams, or broke into hysterical laughter. The earl's presence so much
increased her frenzy, that he gladly withdrew.

"This is a melancholy business, my lord," observed Etherege, as they
quitted the room together, "and I am sorry for my share in it. We have
both much to answer for."

"Do you think her life in danger?" rejoined Rochester.

"It would be well if it were so," returned the other; "but I fear she
will live to be a perpetual memento to you of the crime you have
committed."

Amabel's delirium produced a high fever, which continued for three days.
Her screams were at times so dreadful, that her betrayer shut himself up
in the furthest part of the house, that he might not hear them. When at
last she sank into a sleep like that of death, produced by powerful
opiates, he stole into the room, and gazed at her with feelings which
those who watched his countenance did not envy. It was hoped by the
chirurgeon in attendance, that when the violence of the fever abate