Page:Maud Howe - Atlanta in the South.djvu/180

 out of him, and there remained only a cold sense of a danger averted for the moment, but still hanging over him. Therese had meant to kill him, still meant to do so. Life, which a half hour ago had seemed so hard a thing, now looked full of golden possibilities, of sweet realities. The world which held Margaret Ruysdale was dearer to him than any heaven of angels. He would not die; he would baffle that mad creature who had sworn to take his life, and send her away beyond reach of him. Yet how could he accomplish this? It is not more difficult to chain running water than to balk a wilful woman of her way. The bond between this wretched creature and himself still held him, though she had lifted her hand against him murderously. He could not give her over to the officers of the law. If she had succeeded, if that sharp steel had found his heart, what would Margaret have felt,—Margaret, whom he had left so pale and still in the moonlight with Philip Rondelet; Philip, his friend, the man he had wronged so grievously? If he had died without speaking, Margaret might never have known that Philip was innocent; Philip would never know how grievously he had repented his breach of faith! It was but a chance that had saved him. An other time he might not escape so fortunately. He struck his hands together at the thought