For there are women with whom all things
melt in that white heat of anguished jealousy--honour, duty,
conscience, and the restraint of religion--and of these Belle Quest
was one.
But of this he was not aware, and though he recognised a risk, he saw
in it no sufficient reason to make him stay his hand. For day by day
the strong desire to make Ida his wife had grown upon him, till at
last it possessed him body and soul. For a long while the intent had
been smouldering in his breast, and the tale that he now heard, to the
effect that Colonel Quaritch had been beforehand with him, had blown
it into a flame. Ida was ever present in his thoughts; even at night
he could not be rid of her, for when he slept her vision, dark-eyed
and beautiful, came stealing down his dreams. She was his heaven, and
if by any ladder known to man he might climb thereto, thither he would
climb. And so he set his teeth and vowed that, Mrs. Quest or no Mrs.
Quest, he would stake his fortune upon the hazard of the die, aye, and
win, even if he loaded the dice.
While he was still thinking thus, standing at his window and gazing
out on to the market place of the quiet little town, he suddenly saw
Ida herself driving in her pony-carriage. It was a wet and windy day,
the rain was on her cheek, and the wind tossed a little lock of her
brown hair.
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