That is
what stimulates me. You will swagger to the end. You put the devil into
me. Half an hour ago I was jogging along the road, languid and bored to
extinction. And now----" He laughed outright in actual exultation. "By
Jove!" he cried out. "Things like this don't happen to a man in these
dull days! There's no such luck going about. We've gone back five
hundred years, and we've taken New York with us." His laugh shut off in
the middle, and he got up to thrust his heavy, congested face close to
hers. "Here you are, as safe as if you were in a feudal castle, and here
is your ancient enemy given his chance--given his chance. Do you think,
by the Lord, he is going to give it up? No. To quote your own words,
'you may place entire confidence in that.'"
Exaggerated as it all was, somehow the melodrama dropped away from it
and left bare, simple, hideous fact for her to confront. The evil in him
had risen rampant and made him lose his head. He might see his senseless
folly to-morrow and know he must pay for it, but he would not see
it to-day. The place was not a feudal castle, but what he said was
insurmountable truth. A ruined cottage on the edge of miles of marsh
land, a seldom-trodden road, and night upon them! A wind was rising
on the marshes now, and making low, steady moan.
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