name of Colonel Forrester was distinctly audible to
the ear of Gerald. A retrograde movement was
the immediate consequence of this interruption, and
the party, came once more upon the open space they
had so recently quitted. Stupified with the excess
of abjectness in which he had continued plunged, from
the moment of his discovery of the identity of his
intended victim, Gerald had moved unconsciously and
recklessly whithersoever his conductors led; but now
that he expected to be confronted face to face with
the dying man, as the sudden alteration in the movement
of the party gave him reason to apprehend, he felt
for the first time that his position, bitter as it
was, might be rendered even worse. It was a relief
to him, therefore, when he found that, instead of
taking the course which led to the residence of Colonel
Forrester, the head of the party, of which Matilda
and himself were the centre, suddenly immerged into
the narrow lane which conducted to the residence of
that unhappy woman. Instead, however, of approaching
this, Gerald remarked that they made immediately for
the fatal temple. When they had reached this,
the door was unlocked by the tall negro above described,
who, with a deference in his manner not less at variance
with the occasion than with the excited conduct of
the whole party on their way to the prison, motioned
both his prisoners to enter. They did so, and
the lock having been turned and the key removed, they
silently withdrew.
CHAPTER XV.
Hours passed away without either of the guilty parties
finding courage or inclination to address the other.
The hearts of both were too full for utterance—and
yet did they acknowledge no sympathy in common.
Remorse, shame, fear, regret, simultaneously assailed
and weighed down the mind of Gerald. Triumphant
vengeance, unmixed with any apprehension of self,
reigned exclusively in the bosom of Matilda.
The intense passion of the former, like a mist that
is dissipated before the strong rays of the sun, had
yielded before the masculine and practical display
of the energetic hate of its object, while on the
contrary she, whose beauty of person was now to him
a thing without price, acknowledged no other feeling
than contempt for the vacillating character of her
associate. In this only did they agree that each
looked upon each in the light of a being sunk in crime—steeped
in dishonor—and while the love of the one
was turned to almost loathing at the thought, the
other merely wondered how one so feeble of heart had
ever been linked to so determined a purpose.