ng lips
upon my throat!" Her husband groaned again. She clasped his hand
harder, and looked at him pityingly, as if he were the injured one,
and went on.

"I felt my strength fading away, and I was in a half swoon. How long
this horrible thing lasted I know not, but it seemed that a long time
must have passed before he took his foul, awful, sneering mouth away.
I saw it drip with the fresh blood!" The remembrance seemed for a while
to overpower her, and she drooped and would have sunk down but for her
husband's sustaining arm. With a great effort she recovered herself
and went on.

"Then he spoke to me mockingly, 'And so you, like the others, would
play your brains against mine. You would help these men to hunt me
and frustrate me in my design! You know now, and they know in part
already, and will know in full before long, what it is to cross my
path. They should have kept their energies for use closer to home.
Whilst they played wits against me, against me who commanded nations,
and intrigued for them, and fought for them, hundreds of years before
they were born, I was countermining them. And you, their best beloved
one, are now to me, flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, kin of my
kin, my bountiful wine-press for a while, and shall be later on my
companion and my helper. You shall be avenged in turn, for not one of
them but shall minister to your needs. But as yet you are to be
punished for what you have done. You have aided in thwarting me. Now
you shall come to my call. When my brain says "Come!" to you, you
shall cross land or sea to do my bidding. And to that end this!'

"With that he pulled open his shirt, and with his long sharp nails
opened a vein in his breast. When the blood began to spurt out, he
took my hands in one of his, holding them tight, and with the other
seized my neck and pressed my mouth to the wound, so that I must
either suffocate or swallow some to the . . . Oh, my God! My God!
What have I done? What have I done to deserve such a fate, I who have
tried to walk in meekness and righteousness all my days. God pity
me! Look down on a poor soul in worse than mortal peril. And in
mercy pity those to whom she is dear!" Then she began to rub her lips
as though to cleanse them from pollution.

As she was telling her terrible story, the eastern sky began to
quicken, and everything became more and more clear. Harker was still
and quiet; but over his face, as the awful narrativ