What should she do? He was coming again, and an insane desire came upon her to seek for the window and cast herself out--anything to avoid meeting him now. At last, when the mental agony of suspense was more than she could bear longer, the door was suddenly opened, the light shone in, and a low hoarse cry of horror subsided into a wail of relief, for there stood the same woman, pale, even ghastly, holding a candle above her head, and with a dull, angry look upon her countenance as she entered the room. "Well," she said harshly, "are you satisfied?" "I don't understand you," said Gertrude eagerly, as she crept towards her; "but you are a woman. Pray, pray help me to get away from this dreadful place. For indeed it is dreadful to me," continued Gertrude, catching at the woman's hand, but only for her to snatch it angrily away. "You don't know it as I do," she said, "or you would call it a dreadful place. Don't touch me: I hate you!" "No, no, I never injured you!" cried Gertrude piteously. "Oh, as you are a woman, help me! Here, look, I will reward you. Take this." She hastily detached her watch and chain, and held them out. "Pah!" exclaimed the woman, "what are they to me? I've seen him and them bring scores of them, and rich jewels, diamonds and pearls--I'm sick of them; and do you think I would take that from you?" "Why not?" cried Gertrude. "Oh, have you no pity for me?" "Pity? Pity for you! Why, are you not his wife?" "Yes, yes, yes, but you cannot understand. I cannot explain. Help me to get away from here. I must go--to my friends." "Go? To your friends?" said the woman, looking perplexed. "What, have you quarrelled already?" "Oh, do not ask me--I cannot tell you," cried Gertrude piteously; "only help me to escape from here, and I will pray for you to my dying day." "What good's that?" said the woman mockingly. "I'm so bad that no one could pray me good. I'm a curse and a misery, and everything that's bad. Pray, indeed! I've prayed hundreds of times that I might die, but it's no good." "Have you no heart--no feeling?" cried Gertrude, going down upon her knees. "Not a bit," said the woman bitterly. "They crushed one and hardened the other till it all died." "Let me pass you then!" cried Gertrude angrily. "I will not stay." "If I let you pass, you could not get away. The doors are locked below, and you could not find the keys. You don't want to go." "What can I say--how am I to tell you that I would give the world to get away from here?" cried Gertrude. "Oh, for Heaven's sake save me before he comes again!" "He will not come again. He is downstairs drunk. He is always either drunk or mad. And so you are the new Mrs John Huish?" "Yes, yes!" cried Gertrude; and then wildly, "Tell me, it is not true? You--you--cannot be his wife!" "The parson said I was when we were married--Mrs Frank Riversley."