Part 30 (1/2)

The Rubicon has been crossed. Eleanor is among the lost--on the other side!

Erminie is sitting under the pale light of a yellow lamp, deep in a novel.

The heroine is wavering on the verge of an irredeemable error, and Erminie's kind heart is thoroughly in the book. She is a sympathetic reader, and her eyes moisten as they scan the pages.

She is guilty of serious skipping, and as steps are heard in the hall below, glances at the finish.

A sigh of relief escapes her.

”Oh, I am glad she didn't! I am glad she is saved!” exclaims Mrs. Lane involuntarily, rising, as she thinks, to meet Nelson, since this is his hour to return.

Instead, Philip stands before her, white as a corpse. His haggard features are accentuated by the mellow lamp light, his figure sways, tottering till he steadies himself by grasping the back of a chair.

He has not tasted food that day, and she fancies he looks shrunken, marvelling at his altered appearance.

She dares not ask him what has happened, but just gazes with wondering sympathy into his miserable eyes.

”It has come,” he gasps, pa.s.sing one hand over his brow.

”What?” murmurs Erminie, under her breath.

”Eleanor and Quinton--they have gone together.”

His voice vibrates through the room. A gasp of horror escapes Mrs.

Lane. She staggers back.

”What shall you do?” she asks.

”What will I do?” echoes Philip, his eyes flas.h.i.+ng, and the colour rus.h.i.+ng back in a flood to his ashen cheeks. ”Find her--track her to the end of the earth. Everything in life has closed to me this day. I shall only exist for one motive--one unswerving aim. She thinks she has escaped me, but the world is small, and while Eleanor and I are both in the same hemisphere----”

He pauses, for the room swims round.

A look that Erminie can never forget crosses his face--a look of sublime love, checked by an expression of devilish rage and hatred.

The two seem battling a moment for pre-eminence.

Then he draws himself up to his full height, as if fighting for breath, and falls heavily upon the floor at Erminie's feet. Nelson's voice is heard calling her without.

She rushes to the door with a wild cry:

”Help--help! Philip is DEAD!”

[Ill.u.s.tration: She rushes to the door with a wild cry.]

CHAPTER XV.

AH, FOR SOME RETREAT, DEEP IN YONDER s.h.i.+NING ORIENT.--_Tennyson_.

”Have you ever heard anything more of that poor Mr. Roche, whose wife deserted him?” asks Erminie's sister-in-law.