Was he going to drown her? Probably he was. The spot was lonely,
the river deep and wide enough to make such a purpose easy of
accomplishment. He might drown her if he would; it would be better
than parting to-morrow to lead severed lives.
The swift stream raced and gyrated under them, tossing, distorting,
and splitting the moon's reflected face. Spots of froth travelled
past, and intercepted weeds waved behind the piles. If they could
both fall together into the current now, their arms would be so
tightly clasped together that they could not be saved; they would
go out of the world almost painlessly, and there would be no more
reproach to her, or to him for marrying her. His last half-hour with
her would have been a loving one, while if they lived till he awoke,
his day-time aversion would return, and this hour would remain to be
contemplated only as a transient dream.
The impulse stirred in her, yet she dared not indulge it, to make a
movement that would have precipitated them both into the gulf. How
she valued her own life had been proved; but his--she had no right to
tamper with it. He reached the other side with her in safety.
Here they were within a plantation which formed the Abbey grounds,
and taking a new hold of her he went onward a few steps till they
reached the ruined choir of the Abbey-church.
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