intelligible, that in her betrayal or her silence lay the safety or
the danger of her husband--all compelled the conviction that her
terror and her indignation at the daring insult must be buried deep in
her own breast; even while the supposition that Don Luis knew all the
past (though how, her wildest imagination could not discover), and
that therefore she was in his power, urged her yet more to a full
confession to her husband. Better if his heart must be wrung by her,
than by a foe; and yet she shrunk in anguish from the task.

She was, however, deceived as to the amount of Garcia's knowledge of
her past life. Accustomed to read human nature under all its varied
phases--employing an unusually acute penetration so to know his
fellows as to enable him, when needed, to create the greatest amount
of misery--he had simply perceived that Marie's love for her husband
was of a different nature to his for her, and that she had some secret
to conceal. On this he had based his words: his suspicions were,
unhappily, confirmed by the still, yet expressive agony they had
occasioned. Baffled, as in some measure he had been, his internal rage
that he should have so quailed before a woman, naturally increased the
whirlwind of contending passions: but schooled by his impenetrable
system of hypocrisy to outward quietness and control, he waited,
certain that circumstances would either of themselves occur, or be so
guided by him as to give him ample means of triumph and revenge.




CHAPTER IX.

"You would have thought the very windows spake;