r sorely."
"Ay, and so it does," said Lord William, with a strange and hideous
laugh. "I pray thee, lady, let me play the doctor,--hold out thy hand."
The lady was still silent. She turned away her head. His glance was too
withering to endure.
"Nay, then, I must constrain thee, dame."
She drew out her hand, which Lord William seized with a violent and
convulsive grasp.
"I fear me 'tis a sickness unto death; small hope of amendment here.
Give me the other; perchance I may find there more comfort."
"Oh, my husband, I cannot;--I am--I have no strength."
"Why, thou art grown peevish with thy distemper. Since 'tis so, I must
e'en force thy stubborn will."
"Alas! I cannot."
"If not thy hand, show me thy wrist!--I have here a match to it,
methinks. O earth--earth--hide me in thy womb!--let the darkness blot me
out and this blasting testimony for ever!--Accursed hag, what hast thou
done?"
He seized her by the hair.
"What hast thou promised the fiend? Tell me,--or"--
"I have, oh, I fear I have,--consented to the compact!"
"How far doth it bind thee?"
"My soul--my better part!"
"Thy better part?--thy worse! A loathsome ulcer, reeking with the stench
from the pit! Better have given thy body to the stake, than have let in
one unhallowed desire upon thy soul. How far does thy contract reach?"
"All interest I can claim. His part that created it I could not give,
not being mine to yield."
"Lost! lost! Thou hast, indeed, sold thyself to perdition! I'll purge
this earth of witchery;--I'll make their carcases my weapon's
sheath;--hence inglorious scabbard!" He flung away the sheath. Twining
her dark hair about his fingers--"Die!--impious, polluted wretch! This
blessed earth loathes thee,--the grave's holy sanctuary will cast thee
out! Yon glorious sun would smite thee should I refrain!"
He raised his sword--a gleam of triumph seemed to flash from her eye, as
though she were eager for the blow; but the descending weapon was
stayed, and by no timid hand.
Lord William turned, yet he saw not the cause of its restraint. The lady
alone seemed to be aware of some unseen intruder, and her eye darkened
with apprehension. Suddenly she sprang from the couch; a shriek from no
human agency escaped her, and the spirit seemed to have passed from its
abode.
Lord William threw himself on her pale and inanimate form.
"Farewell!" he cried: "I had thought thee honest!--Nay, lost spirit, I
must not say farewel
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