He stood where you stand, and told me what you had done." "What did he tell you, Margaret ?" asked Disbrowe in a hollow voice.
"He told me you were false--that you loved another, and had abandoned me." "He lied!" exclaimed Disbrowe, in a voice of uncontrollable fury.

"It is true that, in a moment of frenzy, I was tempted to set you--yes, _you_, Margaret--against all I had lost at play, and was compelled to yield up the key of my house to the winner.

But I have never been faithless to you--never." "Faithless or not," replied his wife, bitterly, "it is plain you value me less than play, or you would not have acted thus." "Reproach me not, Margaret," replied Disbrowe; "I would give worlds to undo what I have done." "Who shall guard me against the recurrence of such conduct ?" said Mrs.
Disbrowe, coldly.

"But you have not yet informed me how I was saved." Disbrowe averted his head.
"What mean you ?" she cried, seizing his arm.

"What has happened?
Do not keep me in suspense?
Were you my preserver ?" "Your preserver was the plague," rejoined Disbrowe, in a sombre tone.
The unfortunate lady then, for the first time, perceived that she was attacked by the pestilence, and a long and dreadful pause ensued, broken only by exclamations of anguish from both.
"Disbrowe!" cried Margaret, at length, raising herself in bed, "you have deeply--irrecoverably injured me.