She spoke of my unaccountable and apparently mad suggestion
that we should, although the tide was coming in, and we were already
in danger of being imprisoned in the cove and drowned, sit down on
the boulder made sacred to us both by our childish betrothal. She
spoke of her own suspicion, and then her conviction, that some great
calamity was threatening me on account of the violation of the tomb,
and that the knowledge of this was governing all these strange
movements of mine. She reminded me of my telling her that the shriek
we both heard at the moment when the cliff fell was connected with
the crime against my father, and that it was the call from the grave
which, according to wild traditions, will sometimes come to the heir
of an old family. She recalled the very words I used when I told her
that in answer to this call I intended to remain there until the tide
came in and drowned me. She dwelt upon the way in which I urged her
to go and leave me, her own resolution to die with me, and her
cutting up her shawl into a rope and tying herself to me.
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