He looked from Elinor to her portrait , and thence to his own , in the contemplation of which he finally stood absorbed . The painter seemed to hear the step of Destiny approaching behind him on its progress toward its victims . A strange thought darted into his mind . Was not his own the form in which that Destiny had embodied itself , and he a chief agent of the coming evil which he had foreshadowed ? Still , Walter remained silent before the picture , communing with it as with his own heart and abandoning himself to the spell of evil influence that the painter had cast upon the features . Gradually his eyes kindled , while as Elinor watched the increasing wildness of his face her own assumed a look of terror ; and when , at last , he turned upon her , the resemblance of both to their portraits was complete . `` Our fate is upon us ! '' howled Walter . `` Die ! '' Drawing a knife , he sustained her as she was sinking to the ground , and aimed it at her bosom . In the action and in the look and attitude of each the painter beheld the figures of his sketch . The picture , with all its tremendous coloring , was finished . `` Hold , madman ! '' cried he , sternly . He had advanced from the door and interposed himself between the wretched beings with the same sense of power to regulate their destiny as to alter a scene upon the canvas . He stood like a magician controlling the phantoms which he had evoked . `` What ! '' muttered Walter Ludlow as he relapsed from fierce excitement into sullen gloom . `` Does Fate impede its own decree ? '' `` Wretched lady , '' said the painter , `` did I not warn you ? ''
`` You did , '' replied Elinor , calmly , XXXXX her terror gave place to the quiet grief which it had disturbed .
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