the notch on the ax and on being found out-第67章

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night。　　For　an　instant　I　stood　strengthless；　helpless；　on　the
threshold；　my　gaze　fixed　panic…stricken　on　the　spot　where　I　had
taken　such　awful　part　in　that　phantom　tragedy　of　evil；　then　Alan
threw　his　arm　round　me；　and　drew　me　hastily　on　in　front　of　the
cabinet。　　Without　a　pause；　giving　himself　time　neither　to　speak　nor
think；　he　stretched　out　his　left　hand　and　moved　the　buttons　one
after　another。　　How　or　in　what　direction　he　moved　them　I　know　not；
but　as　the　last　turned　with　a　click；　the　doors；　which　no　mortal
hand　had　unclosed　for　three　hundred　years；　flew　back；　and　the
cabinet　stood　open。　　I　gave　a　little　gasp　of　fear。　　Alan　pressed
his　lips　closely　together；　and　turned　to　me　with　eager　questioning
in　his　eyes。　　I　pointed　in　answer　tremblingly　at　the　drawer　which　I
had　seen　open　the　night　before。　　He　drew　it　out；　and　there　on　its
satin　bed　lay　the　dagger　in　its　silver　sheath。　　Still　without　a
word　he　took　it　up；　and　reaching　his　right　hand　round　me；　for　I
could　not　now　have　stood　had　he　withdrawn　his　support；　with　a　swift
strong　jerk　he　unsheathed　the　blade。　　There　in　the　clear　autumn
sunshine　I　could　see　the　same　dull　stains　I　had　marked　in　the
flickering　candle…light；　and　over　them；　still　ruddy　and　moist；　were
the　drops　of　my　own　half…dried　blood。　　I　grasped　the　lapel　of　his
coat　with　both　my　hands；　and　clung　to　him　like　a　child　in　terror；
while　the　eyes　of　both　of　us　remained　fixed　as　if　fascinated　upon
the　knife…blade。　　Then；　with　a　sudden　start　of　memory；　Alan　raised
his　to　the　cornice　of　the　cabinet；　and　mine　followed。　　No　change
that　I　could　detect　had　taken　place　in　that　twisted　goldwork；　but
there；　clear　in　the　sight　of　us　both；　stood　forth　the　words　of　the
magic　motto：


　　　　　〃Pure　blood　shed　by　the　blood…stained　knife
　　　　　　Ends　Mervyn　shame；　heals　Mervyn　strife。〃


In　low　steady　tones　Alan　read　out　the　lines；　and　then　there　was
silenceon　my　part　of　stunned　bewilderment；　the　bewilderment　of　a
spirit　overwhelmed　beyond　the　power　of　comprehension　by　rushing；
conflicting　emotions。　　Alan　pressed　me　closer　to　him；　while　the
silence　seemed　to　throb　with　the　beating　of　his　heart　and　the
panting　of　his　breath。　　But　except　for　that　he　remained　motionless；
gazing　at　the　golden　message　before　him。　　At　length　I　felt　a
movement；　and　looking　up　saw　his　face　turned　down　towards　mine；　the
lips　quivering；　the　cheeks　flushed；　the　eyes　soft　with　passionate
feeling。　　〃We　are　saved；　my　darling；〃　he　whispered；　〃saved；　and
through　you。〃　　Then　he　bent　his　head　lower；　and　there　in　that　room
of　horror；　I　received　the　first　long　lover's　kiss　from　my　own　dear
husband's　lips。

　　　　　。　　　　　　　　。　　　　　　　　。　　　　　　　　。　　　　　　　　。　　　　　　　　。

My　husband；　yes；　but　not　till　some　time　after　that。　　Alan's　first
act；　when　he　had　once　fully　realized　that　the　curse　was　indeed
removed；　wasthrowing　his　budding　practice　to　the　windsto　set
sail　for　America。　　There　he　sought　out　Jack；　and　labored　hard　to
impart　to　him　some　of　his　own　newfound　hope。　　It　was　slow　work；　but
he　succeeded　at　last；　and　only　left　him　when；　two　years　later；　he
had　handed　him　over　to　the　charge　of　a　bright…eyed　Western　girl；　to
whom　the　whole　story　had　been　told；　and　who　showed　herself　ready
and　anxious　to　help　in　building　up　again　the　broken　life　of　her
English　lover。　　To　judge　from　the　letters　that　we　have　since
received；　she　has　shown　herself　well　fitted　for　the　task。　　Among
other　things　she　has　money；　and　Jack's　worldly　affairs　have　so
prospered　that　George　declares　that　he　can　well　afford　now　to　waste
some　of　his　superfluous　cash　upon　farming　a　few　of　his　elder
brother's　acres。　　The　idea　seems　to　smile　upon　Jack；　and　I　have
every　hope　this　winter　of　being　able　to　institute　an　actual
comparison　between　our　small　boy；　his　namesake；　and　his　own　three…
year…old　Alan。　　The　comparison；　by　the　way；　will　have　to　be
conditional；　for　Jacketthe　name　by　which　my　son　and　heir　is
familiarly　knownis　but　a　little　more　than　two。

I　turn　my　eyes　for　a　moment；　and　they　fall　upon　the　northern　corner
of　the　East　Room；　which　shows　round　the　edge　of　the　house。　　Then
the　skeleton　leaps　from　the　cupboard　of　my　memory；　the　icy　hand
which　lies　ever　near　my　soul　grips　it　suddenly　with　a　chill
shudder。　　Not　for　nothing　was　that　wretched　woman's　life　interwoven
with　my　own；　if　only　for　an　hour；　not　for　nothing　did　my　spirit
harbor　a　conflict　and　an　agony；　which；　thank　God；　are　far　from　its
own　story。　　Though　Margaret　Mervyn's　dagger　failed　to　pierce　my
flesh；　the　wound　in　my　soul　may　never　wholly　be　healed。　　I　know
that　that　is　so；　and　yet　as　I　turn　to　start　through　the　sunshine　to
the　cedar　shade　and　its　laughing　occupants；　I　whisper　to　myself
with　fervent　conviction；　〃It　was　worth　it。〃





End