"You have poisoned my life and my death; and I shall curse you for it, and my last word will be a malediction on the harlequin Geraldine!" "Have pity!" groaned Jane.

"Kill me, Henry; stamp my head beneath your feet; only let this torture end!" "Nay, no pity!" yelled he, wildly; "no pity for this impostor, who has stolen my heart and crept like a thief into my love! Arise, and leave this room; for you fill me with horror; and when I behold you, I feel only that I must curse you! Ay, a curse on you and shame, Geraldine! Curse on the kisses that I have impressed on your lips--on the tears of rapture that I have wept on your bosom.

When I ascend the scaffold, I will curse you, and my last words shall be: 'Woe to Geraldine!--for she is my murderess!'" He stood there before her with arm raised on high, proud and great in his wrath.

She felt the destroying lightning of his eyes, though she durst not look up at him, but lay at his feet moaning and convulsed, and concealing her face in her veil, as she shuddered at her own picture.
"And this be my last word to you Geraldine," said Henry Howard, panting for breath: "Go hence under the burden of my curse, and live--if you can!" She unveiled her head, and raised her countenance toward him.

A contemptuous smile writhed about her deathly pale lips.