Hastings and--Amy. She did not come to
breakfast, and I found this note in her room. She has gone to New York
with him. They took the eleven o'clock train last night. They are to be
married this morning, and sail in the Scotia for Europe.'
She had told her story, and paused for the result, which was worse than
she had expected.
For a moment Arthur Tracy stood staring at her, while his face grew
white as ashes, and into his dark eyes, usually so soft and mild, there
came a fiery gleam like that of a madman, as he seemed for a time to be.
'Amy gone with Harold, my friend!' he said at last. 'Gone to New York!
Gone to be married! Traitors! Vipers! Both of them. Curse them! If he
were here I'd shoot him like a dog; and she--I believe I would kill
her.'
He was walking the floor rapidly, and to Mrs. Crawford it seemed as if
he really were unsettled in his mind, he talked so incoherently and
acted so strangely.
'What else did she say?' he asked, suddenly, stopping and confronting
her. 'You have not told me all. Did she speak of me? Let me see the
note,' and he held his hand for it.
For a moment Mrs. Crawford hesitated, but as he grew more and more
persistent she suffered him to take it, and then watched him as he read
it, white the veins on his forehead began to swell until they stood out
like a dark blue net-work against his otherwise pallid face.
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