panting。 He draws it more evenly； more deeply。 The danger is
past。 Thank God！
God！ What have I to do with Him？ A God of Judgment。 Ha； ha！
Hell cannot frighten me； it will not be worse than earth。 Only he
will be there too。 Not with him； not with him；send me to the
lowest circle of torment； but not with him。 There； his breast is
bare now。 Is the knife sharp？ Yes； and the blade is strong
enough。 Now let me strikemyself afterwards if need be； but him
first。 Is it the devil that prompts me？ Then the devil is my
friend； and the friend of the world。 No。 God is a God of love。
He cannot wish such a man to live。 He made him； but the devil
spoilt him； and let the devil have his handiwork back again。 It
has served him long enough here； and its last service shall be to
make me a murderess。
How the moonlight gleams from the blade as my arm swings up and
back： with how close a grasp the rough hilt draws my fingers round
it。 Now。
A murderess？
Wait a moment。 A moment may make me free； a moment may make me
that！
Wait。
Hand and dagger droop again。 His life has dragged its slime over
my soul； shall his death poison it with a fouler corruption still？
〃My own soul's warden。〃
What was that？ Dream memories again。
〃Resist； strive； endure。〃
Easy words。 What do they mean for me？ To creep back now to bed by
his side； and to begin living again to…morrow the life which I have
lived to…day？ No； no； I cannot do it。 Heaven cannot ask it of me。
And there is no other way。 That or this； this or that。 Which
shall it be？ Ah！ I have striven； God knows。 I have endured so
long that I hoped even to do so to the end。 But to…day！ Oh！ the
torment and the outrage： body and soul still bear the stain of it。
I thought that my heart and my pride were dead together； but he has
stung them again into aching； shameful life。 Yesterday I might
have spared him； to save my own cold soul from sin； but now it is
cold no longer。 It burns； it burns and the fire must be slaked。
Ay； I will kill him； and have done with it。 Why should I pause any
longer？ The knife drags my hand back for the stroke。 Only the
dream surrounds me； the pure man's face is there； white；
beseeching； and God's voice rings in my heart
〃To him that overcometh。〃
But I cannot overcome。 Evil has governed my life； and evil is
stronger than I am。 What shall I do？ what shall I do？ God； if
Thou art stronger than evil； fight for me。
〃The victory of the Cross is ours。〃
Yes； I know it。 It is true； it is true。 But the knife？ I cannot
loose the knife if I would。 How to wrench it from my own hold？
Thou God of Victory be with me！ Christ help me！
I seize the blade with my left hand； the two…edged steel slides
through my grasp； a sharp pain in fingers and palm； and then
nothing。 。 。 。
。 。 。 。 。 。
VI
When I again became conscious； I found myself half kneeling； half
lying across the bed； my arms stretched out in front of me； my face
buried in the clothes。 Body and mind were alike numbed。 A
smarting pain in my left hand； a dreadful terror in my heart； were
at first the only sensations of which I was aware。 Slowly； very
slowly； sense and memory returned to me； and with them a more vivid
intensity of mental anguish； as detail by detail I recalled the
weird horror of the night。 Had it really happened；was the thing
still there；or was it all a ghastly nightmare？ It was some
minutes before I dared either to move or look up； and then
fearfully I raised my head。 Before me stretched the smooth white
coverlet； faintly bright with yellow sunshine。 Weak and giddy； I
struggled to my feet； and； steadying myself against the foot of the
bed； with clenched teeth and bursting heart； forced my gaze round
to the other end。 The pillow lay there； bare and unmarked save for
what might well have been the pressure of my own head。 My breath
came more freely； and I turned to the window。 The sun had just
risen； the golden tree…tops were touched with light； faint threads
of mist hung here and there across the sky； and the twittering of
birds sounded clearly through the crisp autumn air。
It was nothing but a bad dream then； after all； this horror which
still hung round me； leaving me incapable of effort； almost of
thought。 I remembered the cabinet； and looked swiftly in that
direction。 There it stood； closed as usual； closed as it had been
the evening before； as it had been for the last three hundred
years； except in my dreams。
Yes； that was it； nothing but a dream；a gruesome； haunting dream。
With an instinct of wiping out the dreadful memory； I raised my
hand wearily to my forehead。 As I did so； I became conscious again
of how it hurt me。 I looked at it。 It was covered with half…dried
blood； and two straight clean cuts appeared； one across the palm
and one across the inside of the fingers just below the knuckles。
I looked again towards the bed； and； in the place where my hand had
rested during my faint； a small patch of red blood was to be seen。
Then it was true！ Then it had all happened！ With a low shuddering
sob I threw myself down upon the couch at the foot of the bed； and
lay there for some minutes； my limbs trembling； and my soul
shrinking within me。 A mist of evil； fearful and loathsome； had
descended upon my girlhood's life； sullying its ignorant innocence；
saddening its brightness； as I felt； for ever。 I lay there till my
teeth began to chatter； and I realized that I was bitterly cold。
To return to that accursed bed was impossible； so I pulled a rug
which hung at one end of the sofa over me； and； utterly worn out in
mind and body； fell uneasily asleep。
I was roused by the entrance of my maid。 I stopped her
exclamations and questions by shortly stating that I had had a bad
night； had been unable to rest in bed； and had had an accident with
my hand；without further specifying of what description。
〃I didn't know that you had been feeling unwell when you went to
bed last night； miss；〃 she said。
〃When I went to bed last night？ Unwell？ What do you mean？〃
〃Only Mr。 Alan has just asked me to let him know how you find
yourself this morning；〃 she answered。
Then he expected something； dreaded something。 Ah！ why had he
yielded and allowed me to sleep here； I asked myself bitterly； as
the incidents of the day before flashed through my mind。
〃Tell him；〃 I said； 〃what I have told you； and say that I wish to
speak to him directly after breakfast。〃 I could not confide my
story to any one else； but speak of it I must to some one or go
mad。
Every moment passed in that place was an added misery。 Much to my
maid's surprise I said that I would dress in her roomthe little
one which； as I have said； was close to my own。 I felt better
there； but my utter fatigue and my wounded hand combined to make my
toilet slow； and I found that most of the party had finished
breakfast when I reached the dining…room。 I was glad of this； for
even as it was I found it difficult enough to give coherent answers
to the questions which my white face and bandaged hand called
forth。 Alan helped me by giving a resolute turn to the
conversation。 Once only our eyes met across the table。 He looked
as haggard and worn as I did： I learned afterwards that he had
passed most of that fearful night pacing the passage outside my
door； though he listened in vain for any indication of what was
going on within the room。
The moment I had finished breakfast he was by my side。 〃You wish
to speak to me？ now？〃 he asked in a low tone。
〃Yes； now；〃 I answered； breathlessly； and without raising my eyes
from the ground。
〃Where shall we go？ Outside？ It is a bright day； and we shall be
freer there from interruption。〃
I assented； and then looking up at him appealingly； 〃Will you fetch
my things for me？ I CANNOT go up to that room again。〃
He seemed to understand me； nodded； and was gone。 A few minutes
later we left the house； and made our way in silence towards a
grassy spot on the side of the ravine where we had already indulged
in more than one friendly talk。
As we went； the Dead Stone came for a moment into view。 I seized
Alan's arm in an almost convulsive grip。 〃Tell me；〃 I whispered；
〃you refused to tell me yesterday； but you must now；who is buried
beneath that rock？〃
There was now neither timidity nor embarrassment in my tone。 The
horrors of that house had become part of my life for ever； and
their secrets were mine by right。 Alan； after a moment's pause； a
questioning glance at my face； tacitly accepted the position。
〃I told you the truth；〃 he replied； 〃when I said that I did not
know； but I can tell you the popular tradition on the subject； if
you like。 They say that Margaret Mervyn； the woman who murdered
her husband； is buried there； and that Dame Alice had the rock
placed over her grave；whether to save it from insult or to mark
it out for opprobrium； I never heard。 The poor people about here
do not care to go near the place after dark； and among the older
ones there are still some； I believe； who spit at the suicide's
grave as they pass。〃
〃Poor woman； poor woman！〃 I exclaimed； in a burst of uncontrollable
compassion。
〃Why should you pity her？〃 demanded he with sudden sternness； 〃she
WAS a suicide and a murderess too。 It would be better for the
public conscience； I believe； if such were still hung in chains； or
buried at the cross…roads with a stake through their bodies。〃
〃Hush； Alan； hush！〃 I cried hysterically； as I clung to him； 〃don't
speak harshly of her： you do not know； you cannot tell； how
terribly she was tempted。 How can you？〃
He looked down at me in bewildered surprise。 〃How can I？〃 he
repeated。 〃You speak as if YOU could。 What do you mean？〃
〃Don't ask me；〃 I answered； turning towards him my face；white；
quivering； tear…stained。 〃Don't ask me。 Not now。 You must answer
my questions first； and after that I will tell you。 But I cannot
talk of it now。 Not yet。〃
We had reached the place we were in search of as I spoke。 There；
where the spreading roots of a great beech…tree formed a natural
resting place upon the steep side of the ravine； I