But the cries of the child from the adjoining nursery caused her to
start up, and run in there to comfort him.
The searchers left that room, and pursued their investigations
elsewhere. They went all through the house without finding any clue to
the mystery. They attempted to search the grounds, but the night was
pitch-dark, and the rain was falling fast. Finally, they returned to the
room of death.
All the ladies and all the servants had gone away. No one remained in it
but Sybil and Miss Tabby, watching the dead.
Sybil sat near the head of the body, and Miss Tabby near the feet.
At the sight of his doomed young wife, Lyon Berners senses reeled again.
"She is so inexperienced in all the ways of the world, so ignorant of
the ways of the law! Oh, does she know--does she even dream of the awful
position, the deadly danger in which she stands? No; she is unconscious
of all peril. She evidently believes that the explanation she gave us
here, and which satisfies her friends, will convince all others. Oh,
Sybil! Sybil! an hour ago so safe in your domestic sanctity, and
now--now momentarily exposed to--Heaven! I cannot bear it!" he groaned,
as he struggled for self-command and went towards her.
She was sitting with her hands clasped, as in prayer, and her eyes, full
of the deepest regret and pity, fixed upon the face of the dead. There
was sorrow, sympathy, awe--anything but fear or distrust in her
countenance. At the approach of her husband, she turned and whispered
gravely: "She was my rival where I could least bear rivalry; and I thought she
had been a successful one. I do not think so now; and now I have no
feeling towards her but one of the deepest compassion. Oh, Lyon, we must
adopt her poor child, and rear it for our own. Oh! who has done this
deed? Some one whose aim was robbery, no doubt. Has any trace been
discovered of the murderer?" she inquired.
"None, Sybil," he answered, with difficulty.
"Oh, Lyon, such awful thoughts have visited me since I have sat here and
forced myself to look upon this sight! For I see in it that which I
might have done, had my madness become frenzy; but even then, not as
this was done. Oh, no, no, no! May God forgive me and change my heart,
for I have been standing on the edge of an abyss!"
Mr. Berners could not speak. He was suffocating with the feeling that
she now stood upon the brink of ruin yawning to receive her.
"Heaven help you, Sybil!" was the silent prayer of his spirit as he
gazed on his unconscious wife.
Miss Tabby, who sat whimpering at the feet of the dead, now spoke up: "I think," she said, wiping the tear-drop from the end of her nose, "I
do think as we ought not to leave it a-lying here, cramped up onto
this sofy, where we can't stretch it straight. We ought to have it taken
to her room and laid out on her bed, decent and in order."