izing affection for her which had made him
for so many years her willing slave and her blind tool. Now this
sudden reassertion of her old supremacy, while it roused all his
pride and stimulated his anger, excited also at the same time his
admiration.

He spoke at length, and his tone was one of sadness.

"There is one other thing which is against me," said he; "my own
heart. I can not do any thing against you."

"Your heart," said Hilda, "is very ready to hold you back when you
see danger ahead."

Gualtier's pale face flushed.

"That's false," said he, "and you know it. Did my heart quail on that
midnight sea when I was face to face with four ruffians and quelled
their mutiny? You have already told me that it was a bold act."

"Well, at least you were armed, and they were not," said Hilda, with
unchanged scorn.

"Enough," cried Gualtier, flushing a deeper and an angrier red. "I
will argue with you no more. I will yield to you this time. I will
leave the hotel and Lausanne. I will go to England. _He_ shall be
under your care, and you may do what you choose.

"But remember this," he continued, warningly. "I have your promise,
given to me solemnly, and that promise I will yet claim. This man may
recover; but, if he does, it will only be to despise you. His
abhorrence will be the only reward that you can expect for your
passion and your mad self-sacrifice. But even if it were possible for
him to love you--yes, to love you as you love him--even then you
could not have him. For I live; and while I live you could never be
his: No, never. I have your promise, and I will come between you and
him to sunder you forever and to cast you down. That much, at least,
I can do, and you know it.

"And now farewell for the present. In any event you will need me
again. I shall go to Chetwynde Castle, and wait there till I am
wanted. The time will yet come, and that soon, when you will again
wish my help. I will give you six months to try to carry out this
wild plan of yours. At the end of that time I shall have something to
do and to say; but I expect to be needed before then. If I am needed,
you may rely upon me as before. I will forget every injury and be as
devoted as ever."

With these ominous words Gualtier withdrew.

Hilda sank back in her chair exhausted, and sat for some time
pressing her hand on her heart.

At length she summoned her strength, and, rising to her feet, she
walked feebly through several rooms. Finall