"Is he digging?"
"Yes; wait—wait!"
She clutched the window-sill until her nails bent and broke against the woodwork.
"First on one side, then the other," she whispered. "He doesn't touch the right spot—I know it so well—night and day I have seen it——"
"Elizabeth! Elizabeth!"
She never heeded the mad cry, pressed closer and closer to the window-frame, staring out as if every energy of her nature was centred in that gaze.
"He has not found it! He stops again—he throws down the spade! He is stamping on the ground. Oh! once more!"
Then another pause, and at last Elizabeth cried in the same sharp whisper:
"He is throwing the earth back—he turns away!"
"Saved! saved!" shrieked Elsie.