dromeda in my study?"

The simile was an apt one, the statue of the girl awaiting her awful
fate wore the same hopeless, helpless look of vacant terror which was
upon Angela's face now. But its mention recalled Lady Bellamy and the
ominous incident in which that statue had figured, and he hastened to
drown recollection in action.

"Come," he said, "you will forgive me, won't you? It was all done for
love of you." And he moved towards her.

As he came she seemed to collect her energies; the fear left her face,
and in its stead there shone a great and awful blaze of indignation.

Her brush was still in her hand, and as he drew near she dashed it
full into his face. It was but a light thing, and only staggered him,
but it gave her time to pass him, and reach the still open door. Bare-
footed, she fled like the wind down the passages, and down the stairs.
Uttering an oath, he followed her. But, as she went, she remembered
that she could not run upon the gravel with her naked feet, and, with
this in her mind, she turned to bay by a large window that gave light
to the first-floor landing, immediately opposite which was the
portrait of "Devil" Caresfoot. It was unbolted, and with a single
movement of the hand she flung it open, and stood panting by it in the
full light of the moon. In another moment he was upon her, furious at
the blow, and his face contorted with passion.

"Stop," she cried, "and listen to me. Before I will allow you to touch
me with a single finger, I will spring from here. I would rather
thrust myself into the hands of Providence than into yours, monster
and perjured liar that you are!"

He stopped as she bade him, and commenced to pace round and round her
in a semicircle, glaring at her with wild eyes.

"If you jump from there," he said, "you will only break your limbs; it
is not high enough to kill you. You are my wife, don't you understand?
You are my legal wife, the law is on my side. No one can help you, no
one; you are mine in the sight of the whole world."

"But not yours in the sight of God. It is to Him that I now appeal.
Get back!"

She stretched out her arm, and with her golden hair glimmering in the
moonlight, her white robes, and the anger on her face, looked like
some avenging angel driving a fiend to hell. He shrank away from her,
and there came a pause, and, save for their heavy breathing, stillness
again fell upon the house, whilst the picture that hung above them
seemed, in the