thoughts, but
now her great, preoccupying care came back with fresh vehemence, and
resumed more than its former sway. Mrs. Hart was forgotten as
completely as though she had never existed. Gualtier's possible
infidelity to her suggested itself no more; it was Lord Chetwynde and
Lord Chetwynde only, his sickness, his peril, his doom, which came to
her mind. On one side stood Love, pleading for his life; on the
other Vengeance, demanding its sacrifice.

_Shall he live, or shall he die_?

This was the question which ever and ever rang in her soul. "Shall he
live, or die? Shall he go down to death, doomed by me, and thus end
all my hope, or shall he live to scorn me?" In his death there was
the satisfaction of vengeance, but there was also the death of hope.
In his death there was fresh security for herself; but in his death
her own life would lie dead. On each side there were motives most
powerful over a mind like hers, yet so evenly balanced that she knew
not which way to turn, or in which way to incline. Death or
life?--life or death? Thus the question came.

And the hours passed on; and every hour, she well knew, was freighted
with calamity; every hour was dragging Lord Chetwynde on to that
point at which the power to decide upon his fate would be hers no
longer.

Why hesitate?

This was the form which the question took at last, and under which it
forced itself more and more upon her. Why hesitate? To hesitate was
of itself to doom him to death. If he was to be saved, there was no
time for delay. He must be saved at once. If he was to be saved, she
must act herself, and that, too, promptly and energetically. Her part
could not be performed by merely writing a letter, for the letter
might be delayed, or it might be miscarried, or it might be neglected
and disobeyed. She could not trust the fulfillment of a command of
mercy to Gualtier. She herself could alone fulfill such a purpose.
She herself must act by herself.

As she thought of this her decision was taken. Yes, she would do it.
She herself would arrest his fate, for a time at least. Yes--he
should live, and she herself would fly to his aid, and stand by his
side, and be the one who would snatch him from his doom.

Now, no sooner was this decision made than there came over her a
strange thrill of joy and exultation. He should live! he should live!
this was the refrain which rang in her thoughts. He should live; and
she would be the life-giver. At last he