Hardly had De Mürger surprised the startled Fenella than Lord Francis arose from the chair and retraced his steps toward his wife's room. While all that he knew of himself was asleep, Nature, in one of its strangest freaks, propelled him forth.
"Back, sir! How dare you come here?" Lady Francis was exclaiming as he entered the room.
De Mürger had just risen from his knees, and in Fenella's hand, raised above her head, was a gleaming dagger.
"But, my dear Fenella, listen," said the count.
"Back, I say! Touch me, and I will kill you!"
"Oh, this is foolish bravado," the Frenchman answered.
"Another word, and I will alarm the house."
"That would only be to ruin your reputation," said the daring lover.
"God knows I have not much reputation to lose in the eyes of the world, since it seems I have given you sufficient encouragement to bring you here."
"Well, then, why be cruel now? You know I love you dearly!" As he made this last appeal, Fenella stood transfixed, her eyes no longer upon his, but gazing, as it seemed, on vacancy.
"Hush," she whispered, her eyes fixed, her figure rigid with fear.
She saw her husband steal ghostlike into the room; noted his blanched face, his lips blue, his
