"I deny nothing. I own it all, and yet
you have such poor faith in me, you can
believe these horrors? Is it not your
disgrace rather than mine, that you have no
confidence?"

"It is because you deceived me," he said,
fiercely, "and organised a deceit. Were I
sworn solemnly before Heaven to give a
verdict, what could I do, were I
conscientious? Dudley is dead. Were he
living, indeed——"

"Enough," she said, calmly. "After this
never word more shall pass my lips. But
be just to the living. There was another
witness of this—crime."

"Dudley went to India to search for
him. His death was unfortunate for us.
Think not that there is any idea abroad of
this. This spectre has risen between you and
me alone. There is no idea of violence, or of
a blow, as that brutal Dudley would have it.
There was the refined and more deadly
vengeance of delay, of making the removal of
that fatal bridge an instrument by which to
kill her. Oh, it was cruel to let her lie
there, her poor heart's blood welling out
while you took the long round to fetch help."

She was so aghast at this minute, fearful,
and specious charge, she could not say a
word. It seemed to quite crush her. She
saw that denial was hopeless; that with
one of his sensitive mind defence was idle.

"I wished to forget the whole thing,"
he said, after a pause, "to leave it behind
for ever. I was prepared even to own that I
had been a little harsh in judging—though
warranted, after the ordinary rules of
evidence, by the facts."

"But what facts? I demand on this
spot to know them fully and fairly."

"You know them already. You
disdained to refute them."

"Because you should have disdained to
receive them."

"Can you answer me this one question?
Did you not hear her call out for the boat?"

She thought a moment. "Yes, I
remember it now. I did hear her."

He started and stood up. "You did!
Then that man was right in all! And do
you admit this also" he went on, with a
look almost of alarm, "that you said aloud
as you saw her lying there, 'There is
retribution—all through your own act'?"

Again Jessica thought a moment, and
aghast at these revelations, answered, "Yes,
now I recal it."

"Then it is true; and you let that girl
lie there to die, to carry out the idea of her
being punished through her own act—you
that knew there was a boat there. Ah!
Jessica, I know your nature well. Not all
the reasoning in the world could explain
that away."

"Nor shall I explain it ever," she said
with bitterness and pride. "Not one word
shall pass my lips after this night. Not if
I were to lose your good opinion for ever—
and yourself for ever. I see what is passing
in your mind, and it is unworthy of
you and of me."

"It is not my work," he said coldly.
"It was unworthy of you to conceal your
share in that business."

"Once more," she asked, "and for the
last time, do you acquit me?"

"Why did you conceal it from me?—
explain that first."

"Never!"

"Be it so, then."

After that it was as though a high barrier
had been raised up between husband
and wife. The old affection seemed to have
gone out for ever, and instead there came
a resentful defiance on one side, and on the
other a sort of shrinking terror. Yet he
speedily recovered; got back fast to good
health and strength; but he had a sort of
morbid repulsion to her, as she well saw.
Every day, every hour she had to drag this
lengthening chain, until life grew all but
insupportable. At last she found she could
endure it no longer, and one morning came
to him to say she wished to go on a visit
to a friend. She noticed a curious
excitement in his manner.

"It will relieve you of the presence of
one whom you think to be at least a moral
murderess."

"Then you say," he replied eagerly,
"you are not! Say so, Jessica, explicitly,
in solemn terms, and I will go down on my
knees and ask your pardon."

"It is enough that your own heart should
say it for me. It is idle asking me—and
an insult."

"Oh! there is the subterfuge again.
How can I ask my heart anything, when it
answers—when facts answer?"

"Enough," she said; "let it be as it is.
I will take an oath, but not the one you
ask me to take. As I stand here I swear,
that after this, not a word shall ever be
uttered to clear myself. If you wish me to
be as I was you must clear me."

He shook his head. "I can do nothing.
And nothing else can help you. See, here
is news. You are going on this visit?"

"Yes."

"I am glad of it. This letter tells me
that Dudley is not dead, but——"