Martin stood facing the wood, with his back to the abyss, and the light irradiated his handsome features. Eve timidly looked at him, and thought how noble he seemed. ‘Was it the sound of a horse’s hoof you heard?’ asked Martin. ‘Walter is coming with Jasper’s horse.’ ‘I thought a bush moved,’ answered Eve, ‘and that I heard a click.’ ‘It is nothing,’ said Martin, ‘nothing but an attempt on your part to evade the force of my argument, to divert the current of my speech. You women squirm like eels. There is no holding you save by running a stick through your gills. Mind you, I have decided your destiny. It will be my pride to make a great actress of you. What applause you will gain! What a life of merriment you will lead! I shall take a pride in the thought that I have snatched you away from under the nose of that doctor. Pshaw!’—he paused—’pshaw! I do not believe that story about your mother being my sister. Whether she were or not matters nothing. You, like myself, have a soul, and a soul that cannot live on a farmyard dungheap. What is that! I hear a foot on the bracken. Can it be Watt?’ He was silent, listening. He began to feel uneasy. Then from behind the wood came the shrill clangour of a bell. ‘Something has happened,’ said Eve, in great terror. ‘That is the alarm bell of our house.’ ‘My God!’ cried Martin, ‘what is Watt about! He ought to have been here.’ In spite of his former swagger he became uneasy. ‘Curse him, for a dawdle! am I going to stick here till taken because he is lazy? That bell is ringing still.’ It was pealing loud and fast. ‘I shall leave this rock. If I were taken again I should never escape more. Seven years! seven years in prison—why, the best part of my life would be gone, and you—I should see you no more. When I came forth you would be Mrs. Sawbones. I swear by God that shall not be. Eve! I will not have it. If I get off, you shall follow me. Hark! I hear the tramp of the horse.’ He threw up his hands and uttered a shout of joy. He ran forward to the fire, and stood by it, with the full glare of the blazing fircones on his eager face. ‘Eve! joy, joy! here comes help. I will make you mount behind me. We will ride away together. Come, we must meet Watt at the gate.’ A crack, a flash. Martin staggered back, and put his hand to his breast. Eve fell to her knees in speechless terror. ‘Come here,’ he said hoarsely, and grasped her arm. ‘It is too late: I am struck, I am done for.’ A shout, and a man was seen plunging through the bushes. ‘Eve!’ said Martin, ‘I will not lose you.’ He dragged her two paces in his arms. All power of resistance was gone from her. ‘That doctor shall not have you—I’ll spoil that at least.’ He stooped, kissed her lips and cheek and brow and eyes, and in a moment flung himself, with her in his arms, over the edge of the precipice into the black abyss. CHAPTER LII. THE WHOLE.