"Coward--fool--thou liest," she returned with suddenly awakened energy. "For one so changeling as thyself the scaffold were befitting, but know, if I save had the heart to do this deed, I have also had the head to provide against its consequences--see--feel--." One of her cold hands was extended in search of Gerald's. They met, and a vial placed in the palm of the latter, betrayed the secret of her previous lassitude and insensibility. Even amid all the horrors which environed him, and called so largely for attention to his own personal danger, Gerald was inexpressibly shocked. "What! poisoned?" he exclaimed. "Yes--poisoned!" she murmured, and her hand again sank heavily at her side. Gerald dashed the vial away from him to the farther end of the apartment, and taking the cold hand of the unhappy woman, he continued: "Matilda--is this the manner in which you prepare yourself to meet the presence of your God. What! add suicide to murder?" But she spoke not--presently the hand he clasped sank heavily from his touch. Then there was a spasmodic convulsion of the whole frame. Then there burst a piercing shriek from her lips, as she half raised herself in agony from the sofa, and then each limb was set and motionless in the stern rigidity of death. While Gerald was yet bending over the body of his unfortunate companion, shocked, grieved and agitated beyond all expression, the door of the temple was unlocked, and a man enveloped in a cloak, and bearing a small dark lantern, suddenly appeared in the opening. He advanced towards the spot where Gerald, stupified with the events of the past night, stood gazing upon the corpse, almost unconscious of the presence of the intruder. "A pretty fix you have got into, Liftenant Grantham," said the well known voice of Jackson, "and I little calculated, when I advised you to make love to the Kentucky gals to raise your spirits, that they would lead you into such a deuced scrape as this." "Captain Jackson," said Gerald imploringly; "I am sufficiently aware of all the enormity of my crime, and am prepared to expiate it; but in mercy spare the bitterness of reproach." "Now as I'm a true Tennessee man, bred and born, I meant no reproach, and why should I, since you could'nt help her doing it, and he pointed to Matilda, yet you know its sometimes dangerous to be found in bad company. Every body might'nt believe you so innocent as we do." "Innocent! Captain Jackson," exclaimed Gerald, losing sight of all other feelings in unfeigned surprise--"I cannot say that I quite understand you." "Why, the meaning's plain enough, I take it. Others might be apt, I say, to think you had something to do with the thing as well as she, and therefore its just as well you should make yourself scarce. The Colonel says he would'nt on any account, you should even be suspected."