stopped.
A man had crossed in front of it. I caught one glimpse of this
man and instantly the terrors of a lifetime were concentrated into
one instant of agonizing fear. It was William Pfeiffer. I knew
the look; I knew the gait. He was gone in a moment and the
carriage rolled on. But I knew my doom as well that minute as I
did an hour later. My husband was alive and he was here. He had
escaped the perils of the Klondike and wandered east to reclaim
his recreant wife. There had been time for him to do this since
the rescue party left home in search of him; time for him to
recover, time for him to reach home, time for him to reach the
east. He had heard of my wedding; it was in all the papers, and I
should find him at the house when I got there, and you would know
and Cora would know, and the wedding would stop and my name be
made a by-word the world over. Instead of the joy awaiting me a
moment since, I should have to go away with him into some wilderness
or distant place of exile where my maiden name would never be heard,
and all the memories of this year of stolen delights be effaced.
Oh, it was horrible! And all in a minute! And Cora sat there,
pale, calm and beautiful as an angel, beaming on me with tender
eyes whose expression I have never understood! Hell in my heart,--and
she, in happy ignorance of this, brooding over my joy and smiling
to herself while the soft tears rose!

"You were waiting at the curb when I arrived, and I remember how my
heart stood still when you laid your hand on the carriage door and
confronted me with that light on your face I had never seen
disturbed since we first pledged ourselves to marry. Would he see
it, too, and come forward from the secret place where he held
himself hidden? Was I destined to behold a struggle in the streets,
an unseemly contest of words in sight of the door I had expected
to enter so joyously? In terror of such an event, I seized the
hand which seemed my one refuge in this hour of mortal trouble,
and hastened into the house which, for all its doleful history,
had never received within its doors a heart more burdened or
rebellious. As this thought rushed over me, I came near crying
out, 'The house of doom! The house of doom!' I had thought to
brave its terrors and its crimes and it has avenged itself. But
instead of that, I pressed your hand with mine and smiled. O
God! if you could have seen what lay beneath that smile! For,
with my entra