Transcriber's Notes: 1. Page scan source: http://www.archive.org/details/impendingswordno03yate (University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign) THE IMPENDING SWORD. LONDON: ROBSON AND SONS, PRINTERS, PANCRAS ROAD, N.W. THE IMPENDING SWORD. A Novel. BY EDMUND YATES, AUTHOR OF 'BLACK SHEEP,' 'THE ROCK AHEAD,' 'THE YELLOW FLAG,' ETC. ETC. 'Put we our quarrel to the will of Heaven, Who, when He sees the hours ripe on earth, Will rain hot vengeance on the offenders' heads.' SHAKESPEARE. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. III. LONDON: TINSLEY BROTHERS, 8 CATHERINE ST. STRAND. 1874. [_The right of translation, dramatic adaptation, and reproduction is reserved._] CONTENTS OF VOL. III. Book the Third. THE DISCOVERY. CHAP. I. CONSULTATION. II. RECOGNISED. III. A WAY OF ESCAPE. IV. ESCAPED. V. A CLUE. VI. HARKING BACK. VII. MR. DUNN. VIII. IDENTIFIED. EPILOGUE. A NOTE BY THE AUTHOR. Book the Third. THE DISCOVERY. CHAPTER I. CONSULTATION. Thornton Carey stood as one transfixed; in all his recollection of Helen he had never seen her like this before--wonderfully pretty, but deadly white, and almost rigid. 'You wish to see me,' she said, advancing towards him, and placing her cold hand in his; 'you have bad tidings, and you hesitate to tell me; you need not be afraid--directly your arrival was announced I had a presentiment.' 'I have, indeed, something very serious to say to you,' said Thornton Carey, motioning her to a seat, 'and you judge me truly when you say that I find it difficult to break it to you.' 'What you have to tell me concerns Alston--concerns my husband,' said Helen, with unnatural calmness; 'don't fear to speak it at once--he is--is dead!' 'Helen,' said Thornton Carey, laying his hand softly on hers, 'I have known you from your earliest youth, and no brother could have a deeper interest in or affection for you than I have. It is my lot to bring you the news of the most serious trial that you could be put to, and I must not shrink from the obligation. So long as there was any hope, I kept silence myself; and enjoined it on others. Now there is none, and in mercy to you, as well as in justice to myself, I must speak. Summon your womanly fortitude to your aid, my poor child, for you will need it all. Helen--your husband is dead!' She sunk back in her chair, closing her eyes, and pressing her hands before her face. From time to time a strong shiver shook her entire frame, and her interlaced fingers were convulsively twisted together. Once or twice, too, she uttered a deep groan, but there were no tears, nor any of the usual signs of grief. After a few moments, still lying back, and with her face still covered by her hands, she asked, in a voice such as Thornton Carey had never heard from her before--dull, toneless, and metallic: 'Did he die in England?'