Elsie could not even groan; her breath came in quick gasps; her hands tore madly at the carpet, but Elizabeth leaned motionless against the window-sill, watching always with that strained gaze.
"Where is he now, Bessie?"
"He has not reached it—he is near! No! he is digging again—he has not found the place."
"If we could only stop him," cried Elsie, roused to new courage. "If I opened my window and called out."
"Too late, too late!"
"But he will find it—he will find it!"
"Then God help me, I can do no more!"
Elsie sprang up with another shriek.
"You'll tell—you'll tell! I know you will give way—and Grant will murder you—murder us all."
Elizabeth caught the frantic creature in her arms, and forced her back on the couch.