a sort of power over her, even while she loathed his character;
that he had a hundred graces I had not, place which I had not, an
intellect that ever delighted me, and a will like iron when it was
called into action. I thought for one moment longer ere I moved
the panel. My lips closed tight, and I felt a pang at my heart.

Suppose, in this conflict, this singular man, acting on a nature
already tried beyond reason, should bend it to his will, to which
it was, in some radical ways, inclined? Well, if that should be,
then I would go forth and never see her more. She must make her
choice out of her own heart and spirit, and fight this fight alone,
and having fought, and lost or won, the result should be final,
should stand, though she was my wife, and I was bound in honour to
protect her from all that might invade her loyalty, to cherish her
through all temptation and distress. But our case was a strange one,
and it must be dealt with according to its strangeness--our only
guides our consciences. There were no precedents to meet our needs;
our way had to be hewn out of a noisome, pathless wood. I made up my
mind: I would hear and see all. So I slid the panel softly, and put
my eyes to the tapestry. How many times did I see, in the next hour,
my wife's eyes upraised to this very tapestry, as if appealing to
the Madonna upon it! How many times did her eyes look into mine
without knowing it! And more than once Doltaire followed her
glance, and a faint smile passed over his face, as if he saw and
was interested in the struggle in her, apart from his own passion
and desires.

When first I looked in, she was standing near a tall high-backed
chair, in almost the same position as on the day when Doltaire told
me of Braddock's death, accused me of being a spy, and arrested me.