ed. "I wonder I do not
kill you. Ask this man, this double dyed villain to dig deeper his pit,
which has concealed your infamy, and bury you there alive,--that would
be a mercy to us both."

"If you would only kill me," she moaned, "only kill me."

"Stand up," he cried again; "stand up, I say."

But she stretched out her hands over the box; some insane idea of still
preserving it from his touch, rushed across her mind.

"Open it," he said, turning fiercely on North; "I will look on this
dishonor with my own eyes."

"Don't open it; don't open it! Let us pass away from your sight for
ever."

Mellen caught her arm and pulled her roughly away.

"You shall not touch the dead," she cried; "kill me but do not commit
sacrilege."

Elizabeth struggled on to her knees, and wound her arms about him in a
convulsive grasp: he shook her off with loathing, as if a poisonous
reptile had brushed his garments.

North stood with an evil light in his eyes, looking on Mellen, snatched
the spade from his grasp, and while a despairing cry died on Elizabeth's
lips, dashed it upon the cover; again and again, till the frail board
split, revealing a gleam of white underneath.

Elizabeth was lying on the ground--not insensible; no such blessed
relief came to her--but incapable of a movement; watching her husband
always with those insane eyes.

His passion had exhausted itself in this sacrilegious violence, and he
stood over the shattered box, struck with remorseful awe. But the wind
swept over it, lifting some folds of transparent muslin from a little
face that Elizabeth had seen night and day in her thoughts and her
dreams, since the dreadful night when that grave was dug under the
cypress tree.

She saw the face; saw her husband looking down upon it; saw all the
shuddering horror in his eyes. Still she could not move.

"This has been a murder!" he hissed through his clenched teeth. "I swear
that the guilty ones, even if my own name is dragged down to infamy with
them, shall be brought to judgment."

"No, no," she moaned; "not murder; not that."

He caught her arm again and lifted her up.

"Tell the truth," he cried; "I will hear it!"

She could only stare at him with an affrighted gaze.

"I will bring the whole neighborhood to look," he went on; "I will drag
this secret guilt out in the face of day if you do not speak! I will
give you no time; no chance of escape; speak, or I will rouse the whole
house, and let them see yo