There was nothing to be done but to obey his accuser's wishes, knowing well the determined spirit of that fearful woman, so that there would be no other way of preventing her, even with her dying lips, declaring the part he had in the dark transaction in question. He therefore took all necessary precautions and started on his critical commission with as little delay as possible, receiving before his departure, the formal summons from Arthur Seaham to attend as witness on the trial.
Ah, Zelica! there was a time, when bliss Shone o'er thy heart from every look of his; When but to see him, hear him breathe the air In which he dwelt was thy soul's fondest prayer; When round him hung such a perpetual spell, Whate'er he did, none ever did so well. Too happy days! when, if he touch'd a flower Or gem of thine, 'twas sacred from that hour.
Mary Seaham sat alone that same evening by the hotel room fire, expecting Eugene Trevor.
She had told him to come late, because by that time, she knew that her brother, with Judge Elliott's party, would have gone to the county ball held that night in the town; and that the important interview with him, who still deemed himself her lover, might take place without interruption.
Mary had not told her brother of the appointment she had made; so fearful was she that any obstacle should occur to impede or prevent the anxious purpose she had formed. Yet now that the carriage containing Arthur, the radiant Carrie, and their chaperon had driven from the door, and she knew that Eugene at any moment, might be announced, her heart began to fail her, and she almost repented of what she had undertaken. What was she going to do or say--what part pursue?
A dark and bewildered maze seemed to lie before her, and she sat there, pale and trembling at every sound, something grasped convulsively in her hand, her eyes fixed with a dark and anxious gaze upon the flickering fire-flame.
Times indeed were changed, since in serene and quiet happiness, Mary had so often waited at Silverton for her lover's approach. No one could have imaged forth an intended love-tryste from her aspect now. Yet the critical moment came. Eugene entered--the door closed behind him, and once more they were alone together. Mary having resumed her seat, with blanched lips and beating heart--he standing on the hearth-rug looking down upon her like as he had done on that memorable occasion of the first declaration of his love--that beginning of so much happiness--but greater misery to Mary. Alas! was this to be its end?