Elizabeth watched her husband's movements still. He stood for some moments in quiet, then walked about the tree; she could feel the baffled rage that shook him.
He turned away at last and disappeared around the corner of the house. Then Elizabeth sprang to her feet.
"Where are you going?" cried Elsie.
"Lie still—don't speak, on your life!"
She ran to the door and locked it, then threw herself down by the fire.
"He might come in and find us," she whispered.
Elsie crept across the floor again, seeking protection at her side. There they waited, hushing their breaths, listening for the echo of his step on the stairs. It came at last, muffled and cautious, but terribly distinct to their strained senses. He half paused at the room where they were, passed on, the door of his chamber opened and shut.
"He has gone in," said Elizabeth.
"Saved! saved!" broke again from Elsie, but there was no answering echo from the woman by her side.
For a time they sat motionless, whether moments or hours neither of them ever could have told.