'If I fall'--I sadly
thought--'will she appreciate my self-offering? Shall I leave her a
legacy of sorrow, if my death under these circumstances would grieve
her? No! I will die as I have thus far lived--making no expression of
the love which sways my soul.' I tore my letter into fragments and
burned them. Passing silently into her chamber,--the first time I had
entered it for long months,--I kneeled at her bedside and sobbed. By the
dim light I could trace the marks of grief--cold, heart-consuming
grief--on her beautiful features--marks which in the day-time resolute
pride effaced; as the furrows in the rocks of the sea-shore are seen at
ebb-tide, but are concealed when the waters bound at their flood. Slowly
and cautiously I approached my lips to hers, and lightly touched them.
She stirred, and I sank to the floor. Her sleep being but lightly
disturbed, I glided like a ghost from the chamber, and with a
heart-rending groan threw myself on my bed and forced forgetfulness and
slumber.
All parties were on the field at the appointed hour, and the
preliminaries were quickly arranged. There was in Sefton's countenance
the expression of deliberate criminality, encouraged by the expectation
of an easy triumph.
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