“God is very merciful,” she said gently, commanding herself so that he should not see her agitation. “You do not know,” he interrupted almost fiercely. “Wait till I have told you all.” “Why should you tell me, Conrad? I know much of your past life. I know that you have sinned. Ask God’s forgiveness before it is too late. It is against Him, not me, that you have sinned.” “Against Him _and_ you,” he answered with a grave intensity of manner that plainly showed him master of his faculties. “Listen to me, Monica—you shall listen! I cannot carry the guilty secret to the grave. Death looks me in the face—he holds me by the hand, but he will not let me leave this world till I have told you all.” A sort of horror fell upon Monica. She neither spoke nor moved. “Monica, turn your face this way. I want to see it. I must see it. You remember the night, a year ago, when—your husband—went away?” She bent her head in silence. “Did you know that I was there—in the boat with him?” She raised her head, and looked at him speechlessly. “I was there,” he said, “but nobody knew, nobody suspected. I was on the shore before you. I saw you cling to him. I heard every word that passed. I think a demon entered into my soul as you kissed each other that night. ‘Kiss her!’ I said, ‘kiss her—you shall never kiss her again!’ Monica, I think sometimes I am mad—I was mad, possessed, that night. I had no will, no power to resist the evil spirit within me. He went down to the boat. I followed. In the black darkness nobody saw me swing myself in. You know the story the men told when they came back—it was all true enough. The crew of the sinking vessel had been rescued. Your husband left the boat to help the little lad. I followed him, unknown to all. He had already handed the boy into the boat when I came stealthily up to him; the boat had swung round, and for a moment was lost in darkness before it could be brought up again. This was my chance. It was pitchy dark, and he did not see me, though I was close beside him. I had the great boat-hook in my hand; we were both sinking with the sinking vessel. I steadied myself, and brought the metal end of the weapon with all my strength upon his head. He sank without a cry. I saw his head, covered with blood, and his glassy eyes above the water for a moment—the sight has haunted me ever since—then I sprang into the boat. ‘All right!’ I shouted, and the men pulled off with a will, without a suspicion or a doubt. Almost before the boat reached the shore I sprang out, and vanished in the darkness before any one had seen me. My vow of vengeance was fulfilled. I murdered your husband Monica—do you understand?—I murdered him in cold blood! What have you to say to me?” She sat still as a marble statue, her hands closely locked together. She spoke no word.