Had he not been excited beyond measure, he would have told the story in such a way as to take away the sting from it. As it was, never dreaming of the results, he related what had taken place, and repeated the words Wilson had said. No sooner had he spoken, however, than he was mad with himself for being so unguarded. His mother's face became drawn with agony. Her eyes shone with a strange light, and he saw her clench and unclench her hands like one in great pain. "Did he say that?" she cried. "Did he say that?" And he scarcely recognised her voice. "Anyhow, he's suffering for it," said Paul. "Ay, and he shall suffer for it, too." "He shall! He shall!" And her voice almost rose to a shriek. "I have violent blood in my veins, Paul. Back in the old days my people would have only been content to wipe out such an insult in blood, and I will make him suffer for it!" "I am sorry I told you, mother," said Paul. "I was a fool to do so; but I did not think, I did not remember!" "I am glad you have told me!" was her reply. "I know now what I have to do. I have been so happy that I was almost forgetting; but I will not forget now! And that man is your enemy, too. He means to marry Mary Bolitho, and he will, too, unless, unless--Paul, you needn't fear! I tell you, you needn't fear." And after that she would not speak another word. For a long time Paul lay thinking of what his mother had said and of the strange look in her eyes. It seemed as though he had roused something evil in her nature, and for a time he wondered whether her brain had not been unhinged. He knew she was a proud woman, and that she was jealous beyond words of her good name. The thought of Wilson's words being bandied around the town must be worse than death to her, and yet what could he do? He blamed himself more than he could say for having told her the truth so brutally. Had he not himself been so overwrought he would have acted with more deliberation. He remembered, too, what his mother had said when they had first met, and he wondered whether Wilson had proposed marriage to Mary Bolitho before she had left Brunford, and whether she had accepted him. It might be so. And then all the joy of his winning the election would be as nothing. For the last three weeks he had been looking forward to this day with great anticipation. He felt sure he would win from the beginning, and he had wondered whether Mary would send him some word of congratulation. He did not expect she would, but she would hear of his victory, and perhaps their next meeting would be under more favourable circumstances. He knew that, in spite of the fact that he had been elected for Brunford, the sky of his life was black again. The words he had heard had filled him with black shame and feelings of deadly anger, while the look on his mother's face aroused in him an unnameable fear.