Fatal Silence

Strange and cruel destiny! When everything depended apon my firmness,
I was overwhelmed by feebleness. It seemed as if I had not before
believed that this terrible moment of confirmation would come.
And yet, if anybody could have been prepared for such a discovery,
I should have been. I had brooded over it for months. A thousand
times had my imagination pictured it to me in the most vivid
and fearful aspect. I fancied that I should have been steeled by
conviction against every other feeling but that of vengeance. But
in reality, my hope was so sanguine, my love for Julia so fervent,
I did not, amidst all my fears, really believe that such a thing
could ever prove true. All my boasted planning and preparation,
and espionage, had only deceived myself. I believed, at worst, that
Julia might be brought to love William Edgerton,--but that he would
presume to give utterance to his love, and that she would submit
to listen, was not truly within my belief. I had not been prepared
for this, however much, in my last interview with Kingsley, I had
professed myself to be.

But had she submitted? That was still a question. I had seen
nothing beyond what I have stated. His audacious hand had rested
upon hers--his impious arm had encircled her waist, and then
my blindness and darkness followed. I was struck as completely
senseless, and fell from the tree with as little seeming life, as
if a sudden bullet had traversed my heart.