“She told me that a boy had brought a letter for my wife the day before, from a young gentleman in a boat.  When Lucy delivered it she asked, ’Who is he, Miss Eilie?  What will Mr. Brune say?’ My wife looked at her angrily, but gave her no answer—­and all that day she never spoke.  In the evening she was gone, leaving this note on the bed....  Lucy cried as if her heart would break.  I took her by the shoulders and put her from the room; I couldn’t bear the noise.  I sat down and tried to think.  While I was sitting there Tor came in with a letter.  It was written on the notepaper of an inn twelve miles up the river:  these were the words.

“‘Eilie is mine.  I am ready to meet you where you like.’”

He went on with a painful evenness of speech.  “When I read those words, I had only one thought—­to reach them; I ran down to the river, and chose out the lightest boat.  Just as I was starting, Tor came running.  ’You dropped this letter, sir,’ he said.  ’Two pair of arms are better than one.’  He came into the boat.  I took the sculls and I pulled out into the stream.  I pulled like a madman; and that great man, with his bare arms crossed, was like a huge, tawny bull sitting there opposite me.  Presently he took my place, and I took the rudder lines.  I could see his chest, covered with hair, heaving up and down, it gave me a sort of comfort—­it meant that we were getting nearer.  Then it grew dark, there was no moon, I could barely see the bank; there’s something in the dark which drives one into oneself.  People tell you there comes a moment when your nature is decided—­’saved’ or ‘lost’ as they call it—­for good or evil.  That is not true, your self is always with you, and cannot be altered; but, sir, I believe that in a time of agony one finds out what are the things one can do, and what are those one cannot.  You get to know yourself, that’s all.  And so it was with me.  Every thought and memory and passion was so clear and strong!  I wanted to kill him.  I wanted to kill myself.  But her—­no!  We are taught that we possess our wives, body and soul, we are brought up in that faith, we are commanded to believe it—­but when I was face to face with it, those words had no meaning; that belief, those commands, they were without meaning to me, they were—­vile.  Oh yes, I wanted to find comfort in them, I wanted to hold on to them—­but I couldn’t.  You may force a body; how can you force a soul?  No, no—­cowardly!  But I wanted to—­I wanted to kill him and force her to come back to me!  And then, suddenly, I felt as if I were pressing right on the most secret nerve of my heart.  I seemed to see her face, white and quivering, as if I’d stamped my heel on it.  They say this world is ruled by force; it may be true—­I know I have a weak spot in me....  I couldn’t bear it.  At last I Jumped to my feet and shouted out, ‘Turn the boat round!’ Tor looked up at me as if I had gone mad.  And I had gone mad.  I seized the boat-hook and threatened him;