Oh, sight of hell! Mark Hurdlestone suppressed the yell of agony that
convulsed his throat, while he gazed with flashing eyes upon the pair
before him; yes, with such a glance as Satan regarded our first parents
ere sin had exiled them from Paradise, and destroyed the holy beauty of
innocence. He attempted to quit his place of concealment, but a strange
fascination, a horrible curiosity, rooted him to the spot.

Elinor looked up with a smile into her lover's face. Algernon seemed
perfectly to understand the meaning of that playful glance, and replied
to it in lively tones, "Yes, dear Nell, sing my favorite song!" and
Elinor instantly complied, with a blush and another sweet smile. Mark
was no lover of music, but that song thrilled to his soul, and the words
never afterwards departed from his memory. A fiend might have pitied the
crushed heart of that humbled and most unhappy man.

Mark Hurdlestone rushed from the garden, and sought the loneliest spot
in the park, to give utterance to his despair. With a heavy groan he
dashed himself upon the earth, tearing up the grass with his hands, and
defacing the flowers and shrubs that grew near him as he clutched at
them in his strong agony. The heavens darkened above him, the landscape
swam round and round him in endless circles, and the evening breeze,
that gently stirred the massy foliage, seemed to laugh at his mental
sufferings.

He clenched his teeth, the big drops of perspiration gathered thick and
fast upon his brow, and tossing his hands frantically aloft, he cursed
his brother, and swore to pursue him with his vengeance to the grave.
Yes, that twin brother, who had been fed at the same breast--had been
rocked in the same cradle--had shared in the same childish sports--it