Bressant

And who and what was he? Oh, what punishment was terrible enough for

him? Surely--surely God would not allow him to escape! What was he?

These thoughts must have written themselves in the woman's eyes, which

were now awful to behold--eager, questioning, and malevolent. Bressant

forced a harsh laugh, as men will when they find themselves opposed by

impotent rage. Certainly Abbie had no other claim to be considered an

amusing spectacle. Had not her revengeful rage upheld her, she must have

swooned. But it was a hideous kind of vitality, unwholesome to

contemplate. Bressant laughed by main strength.

"You can't solace yourself even with that," said he, shaking his head.

"Up to three days ago I was as much in ignorance as you. It was no fault

and no concern of mine; you and Professor Valeyon chose to deceive

yourselves, and me. Nobody can be more innocent than I! Nobody can

regret more, on some accounts, that our relationship is no closer!".

In this last sentence the tone of mockery he had assumed was somewhat

overstrained; a suspicion of underlying sincerity grated through it.

"Don't say you didn't know!" said Abbie, in a guttural voice, clasping

and wringing her hands, and turning her head from one side to another;

"don't dare to say it! No--no! you did--you did! You did know it, and

God will punish you--God will condemn you! He must--He will!" She could

not endure to believe that, having been defrauded in her love, she was

to be defrauded also in her hate and thirst for revenge. She could live

by either; but to be deprived of both was death!

Bressant made no reply to her uncanny petition, and a silence followed.

Abbie stood wringing her hands, waving her head, and drawing her breath

sobbingly between her teeth. Was she the same woman--stately, and almost

beautiful--who had spoken so loftily and tenderly but a few minutes

before? Are human generosity and affection founded on no securer basis?

Her appearance was now revolting. Suddenly a thought struck her.

"Ah! but she--she can't escape," she broke forth, seizing upon the

idea with a grisly eagerness of exultation. "You can't get her away

from me; I know her, oh! I know her, and I condemn her, I hate her--God!

how I hate her. She shall never be forgiven--never, never. You can never

cheat me out of her, for I know her."

Abbie pressed both hands to her head.

"You had better hold your tongue, old woman," Bressant said, in a low

voice, and a deadlier passion than anger looked from his eyes as he

fastened them upon her. "You're so hungry to send a soul to hell, take

care you don't find yourself there. Do you think your past life can save

you? Wait till I've told you what it has been. You began by blasting a

true man's life, trusting too easily, against all internal evidence, to

the lies that were told you about him. Next, you married the liar, not

loving him, but so that the other might hear it, and believe you had

forgotten him; so you acted a lie to him, and prostituted yourself

bodily and spiritually to gratify your pride and revenge. Not the sort

of thing that gets people to heaven, so far, is it?"