rise between us two
which will never escape the recollection of either of us till the
latest moment of our lives; some of these are associated with the
General, some with the Earl, and some--with _Zillah_!"

He stopped, as though the mention of that last name had overpowered
him. As for Hilda, the pallor of her face grew deeper, and she
trembled with mingled agitation and rage.

"Go!" said she. "Go! and let me never see your face again!"

"No," said Gualtier, "I will not go till I choose. As to seeing my
face again, the wish is easier said than gained. No, Lady Chetwynde.
_You are in my power_! You know it. I tell it to you here, and
nothing can save you from me if I turn against you. You have never
understood me, for you have never taken the trouble to do so. You
have shown but little mercy toward me. When I have come home from
serving you--_you know how_--hungering and thirsting for some slight
act of appreciation, some token of thankfulness, you have always
repelled me, and denied what I dared not request. Had you but given
me the kind attention which a master gives to a dog, I would
have followed you like a dog to the world's end, and died for
you--like a dog, too," he added, in an under-tone. "But you have used
me as a stepping-stone; thinking that, like such, I could be spurned
aside when you were done with me. You have not thought that I am not
a stone or a block, but a man, with a man's heart within me. And it
is now as a man that I speak to you, because you force me to it. I
tell you this, that you are in my power, and you must be mine!"

"Are you a madman?" cried Hilda, overwhelmed with amazement at this
outburst. "Have you lost your senses? Fool! If you mean what you say,
I defy you! Go, and use your power! _I_ in the power of such as
you?--Never!"

Her brows contracted as she spoke, and from beneath her black eyes
seemed to shoot baleful fires of hate and rage unutterable. The full
intensity of her nature was aroused, and the expression of her face
was terrible in its fury and malignancy. But Gualtier did not recoil.
On the contrary, he feasted his eyes on her, and a smile came to his
features.

"You are beautiful!" said he. "You have a demon beauty that is
overpowering. Oh, beautiful fiend! You can not resist. You must be
mine--and you shall! I never saw you so lovely. I love you best in
your fits of rage."

"Fool!" cried Hilda. "This is enough. You are mad, or else drunk; in
either case you shal