Part 50 (1/2)
”Why?” she stammers feebly, her mind groping in the dark.
”So long as he was faithful to you--so long as he valued what you flung at his feet, I would not wake you from your Elysium. By this I _proved_ the love you discredit. My action should not plunge you into an abyss of woe; but _now_ that he is false--_false as h.e.l.l_----”
”Liar!” breaks in Eleanor hotly; ”your miserable accusation is unfounded.”
”Wait. When he left you for long days of 'sport,' what do you think was the nature of that chase?”
Eleanor is silent, numbed by dread and despair.
”His game--was a woman, who knew from his lips your whole history. I have seen them together for hours at a time--heard them speak--jest at your expense. But, in spite of this, she was jealous of you, and, but for a bad shot, would have taken your life that day in the jungle, when I killed her horse under her. You see I was guarding you, Eleanor. He has been scheming to go away with her; to desert you as a toy that is broken--a flower which has lost its scent.”
She leaps to her feet, and flings open the window.
”You are hoodwinking me with a trumped-up story; it is not true!”
”Hear me out. He is serving you as you treated me. It is retribution.
You forfeited his respect and consideration. He gave you only the brief glamour of his pa.s.sion, which has died, to re-live in the smiles of 'Paulina.'”
”Philip, these lies are dastardly--cruel! You do not know what you are saying.”
”You cling hard to your faith!” he retorts savagely, her staunchness to Carol awaking a fever of indignation within him. ”Did I ever in the old days deserve that hard term 'liar'?”
She shakes her head. ”Oh, no!”
”You are waiting for him to-night, Eleanor. He had promised, I believe, to return?”
She gazes down the slanting road.
”Yes. He is late.” Then, with a sudden cry: ”And when he comes--oh!
Philip, I had not realised it--your revenge! What can I do to save him? Anything--I care not what! I will go and leave him--I will kill myself here before your eyes, as a ransom! You are mistaken, he is _not_ false to me; any moment he may arrive. Only spare his life, for the love of Heaven!”
She falls on her knees at Philip's feet, beating the air with her hands.
He raises her gently, but firmly.
”You need not look,” he says, as her terrified eyes stare out at the moonlit scene, white and ghostly. ”Yesterday he wrote to the woman Paulina, making all arrangements for their flight this night. She dropped the letter in the jungle, from a satchel full of shot. It is here.”
He holds out the torn envelope, with its broken seal and deadly intelligence.