h like the
coming of a god! The rocks dripped around them--the torrent dashed at
their very feet. Down--down, in thunder, for ever and for ever, dashed
the might of the maddening element; above, all wrath; below, all
blackness;--there, the cataract; here, the abyss. Not a moment's pause
to the fury, not a moment's silence to the roar;--forward to the last
glimpse of the sun--the curse of labour, and the soul of unutterable
strength, shall be upon those waters! The demon, tormented to an
eternity, filling his dread dwelling-place with the unresting and
unearthly voice of his rage and despair, is the only type meet for the
spirit of the cataract.

And there--amidst this awful and tremendous eternity of strife and
power--stood two beings whose momentary existence was filled with the
master-passion of humanity. And that passion was yet audible there:
the nature without coal; I not subdue that within. Even amidst the icy
showers of spray that fell around, and would have frozen the veins of
others, Godolphin felt the burning at his heart. Constance was indeed
utterly lost in a whirl and chaos of awe and admiration, which deprived
her of all words. But it was the nature of her wayward lover to be
aroused only to the thorough knowledge of his powers and passions among
the more unfrequent and fierce excitements of life. A wild emotion now
urged him on; something of that turbulent exaggeration of mind which
gave rise to a memorable and disputed saying--"If thou stoodest on a
precipice with thy mistress, hast thou ever felt the desire to plunge
with her into the abyss?--If so--thou hast loved!" No doubt the
sentiment is exaggerated, but there are times when love is exaggerated
too. And now Constance, without knowing it, had clung closer and closer
to Godolphin. His hand at first--now his arm--supported her; and at
length, by an irresistible and maddening impulse, he clasped her to his
breast, and whispered in a voice which was heard by her even amidst
the thunder of the giant waters, "Here, here, my early--my only love, I
feel, in spite of myself, that I never utterly, fully, adored you until
now!"

CHAPTER XLI.

LUCILLA.--THE SOLITUDE.--THE SPELL.--THE DREAM AND THE RESOLVE.

While the above events, so fatal to Lucilla, were in progress at Rome,
she was holding an unquiet commune with her own passionate and restless
heart, by the borders of the lake, whose silver quiet mocked the mind
it had, in happier moments, reflec