Fatal Silence

In this state I lay. How long I know not--it must have been for
several hours. I was brought to consciousness by a sense of cold.
I was benumbed--a steady rain was falling, and from the condition
of my clothes, which were completely saturated, must have been
falling for some time previous. I rose with pain and difficulty to
my feet. I was still as one stunned and stupified, by one of those
extremes of suffering for which the overcharged heart can find no
sufficient or sufficiently rapid method of relief. When I rose,
the light was no longer in the parlor. The parties were withdrawn.

Horrible thought! That I should have failed at that trying moment.
I knew everything--I knew nothing. It was still possible that Julia
had repulsed him. I had seen HIS audacity only--was it followed by
HER guilt? How shall that be known? I could answer this question
as Kingsley would have answered it.

"If your wife be honest, she must now reveal the truth. She can
no longer forbear. The proceeding of Edgerton has been too decided,
and she shares his guilt if she longer keeps it secret. The wife
who submits to this form of insult, without seeking protection where
alone it may be found, clearly shows that the offence is grateful
to her--that she deems it no insult."

That, then, shall be the test! So I determined. Edgerton must be
punished. There is no escape. But for her--if she does not seek
the earliest occasion to reveal the truth, she is guilty beyond
doubt--doomed beyond redemption.