Her eyes flashed, even through the twilight; she drew herself up and assumed an air of defiance that he could not have believed possible to her soft and exquisite beauty. He had yet to learn what it was to rouse a gentle nature. Hubert paused beneath the shrubs in the small garden. "Choose;" he said, "I do not say that knowledge is not pain; and ignorance, the grossest ignorance, content. You have not now to learn that I love you. You can give what faith you please to my accusation." "I cannot doubt you," said Margaret, "let us make haste; I shall never go if I do not go soon. I am sick--sick." They passed down the shady lane, where the moonlight traced a fair trellis-work of boughs and leaves upon the rocky path; and at every step, as the road grew more uneven, and as Hubert supported her over the rugged stones, she cried to him to make haste. She went like one who walked in her sleep, still struggling for swiftness, and more and more unable to stir as her wish to move grew more pressing. Hubert almost carried her the few last steps of the way; and there stood the cottage by the side of the hill, where it broke gently away down to the sea shore. The waves rippled and sank down upon the beach to a low sweet music that seemed almost charged with words, so clear and measured was the sound in that still night. Margaret stopped for breath, and hung heavily upon his arm. Then the thought crossed her mind that if Mr. Haveloc was innocent, and came there by chance, finding her walking alone with Hubert Gage, what would he think? "Oh, Heaven!" she said, clasping her hands in agony, "forget that you love me--speak to me as a sister. Is this true?" "I never pressed you to believe me," answered her companion. "Oh, true, true!" said Margaret, hastening on. She had hardly gone three paces when she stopped again. "Coward that I am," said she, "to pry upon his actions; to seek these miserable means of learning his pursuits. He trusts me wholly. I will ask him what he does there visiting so often; and if--if he loves her better, let him go. I would set free an Emperor, if he was willing to be released. I'll not go on. I'll learn nothing this way." She was gasping for breath. Hubert Gage turned without another word, and held out his hand to conduct her back again, but she repulsed him, and stood clasping her temples with a force that seemed designed to hold in her reason. "If you think," said she very slowly, for she was collecting her ideas, "that I shall like you better when I have learned to hate him, know, once for all, that you will be more intolerable in my eyes than Claude himself." He looked distressed, but made no answer. She paused a moment, and then said in a more quiet tone. "Be sure you say nothing of all this to my uncle; it would so vex him. He is not well enough--"