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"Yes!" said the dying man, with the all-mastering impatience which his tongue was powerless to express, glittering angrily in his eye. "My hand is gone, and my speech is going. Write!" Before there was time to speak again, Mr. Neal heard the rustling of a woman's dress, and the quick creaking of casters on the carpet behind him. Mrs.
Such surrender is not pain but gladness, inasmuch as the deeper well that has been sunk dries the surface springs, and gathers all their waters into itself. The new treasure that has filled the heart compels, by glad compulsion, the surrender or, at least, the subordination, of all former affections to the constraint of all-mastering love.
But Pasquini did not wait. "And if you still have any scruples," he hurried on, "then allow me to remove them . . . thus." And he spat in the grass at my feet. Then my anger seized me and was beyond me. The red wrath I call it an overwhelming, all-mastering desire to kill and destroy. I forgot that Philippa waited for me in the great hall.
The estrangement of the day before passed as completely from the minds of the husband and wife both strongly agitated as if it had never existed. All-mastering fear was busy at their hearts; fear, in the woman, of the unknown temptation which had tried the man; fear, in the man, of the tell-tale disturbance in him, which might excite the woman's suspicion.
He looked no longer in the direction of the Magic Cave, but rather quickened his steps as though he desired to leave it far behind. But there was no escaping that all-mastering suspicion. It went with him, closely locked with his own spirit, and he could not shake it off. Back to his hotel he walked, with no glance at sea or shining sunset, and went straight to his own room.
He, too, spoke more seriously than usual; he, too, was beginning to feel an all-mastering curiosity to know more. Some vague connection, not to be distinctly realized or traced out, began to establish itself in his mind between the difficulty of approaching Miss Gwilt's family circumstances and the difficulty of approaching Miss Gwilt's reference.
It seemed to be strained to snapping point, and yet it held. It was the fiercest battle she had ever known a battle in which his will grappled with hers in a mighty, all-mastering grip, increasing every instant till she felt crushed, impotent, lost, as if all the powers of evil were let loose and seething around her, dragging her down. Her resolution began to falter at last.
And, to judge by the boy's blood-stained hands, in the thick of his fell work. "So, I've caught you, my lad, have I?" he said, with a cold grin of appreciation. "It's you who spend your time killing the chickens? Well, you're going to pay for it, you you wretched deformity." The boy cowered back. His curious mind was filled with hatred, but his fear was all-mastering.
Struggling with the all-mastering dread that still held him, Midwinter laid his hand gently on Allan's forehead. Light as the touch was, there were mysterious sympathies in the dreaming man that answered it. His groaning ceased, and his hands dropped slowly. There was an instant of suspense and Midwinter looked closer. His breath just fluttered over the sleeper's face.
For the first time in the captain's experience of her, fear all-mastering fear had taken possession of her, body and soul. "You are not flinching," he said, trying to rouse her. "Surely you are not flinching at the last moment?" No light of intelligence came into her eyes, no change passed over her face. But she heard him for she moved a little in the chair, and slowly shook her head.
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