"Keep off—keep off!" she shrieked, insane with fear and the suddenness of the shock. "Philip Yates is dead. I saw him hanged. You saw him, also, on the blasted pine, Ralph Hinchley."
"Excuse me," returned Yates; "I ought to know, and I assure you that I am as much alive as either of you. Tom Dickinson, poor fellow, they hung him in my place. He managed to steal my clothes from the wardrobe, hoping the men would take him for me, and help him off. So you really thought it was me they swung up; poor Sybil, what a disappointment! Well, it was natural. Tom and I did look alike, especially when he was on good behavior; but there was a certain manner he never could catch. Still, the people mistook him for me more than once. He was so proud of it, poor Tom. But I wouldn't have thought it of you, Syb—not know your own husband! My darling, that is not complimentary."
She answered by a groan so despairing that it might have softened any heart less steeled against her than those of the two men who looked quietly on.
"No, no, Sybil," he continued; "while Tom was doubling like a fox, and you screaming for some one to pounce on me, I slipped away through the cellar, and into the bush. Why, bless your soul, I was perched just above you on the precipice all the time, and, if you hadn't made off with the horse, should have got clear, instead of being caught among the rocks like a rat in a trap."
Sybil sunk slowly into a chair while he was giving these revolting details, and, covering her face with both hands, interrupted him only with her faint moans. While she sat thus abject and wounded, Edward Laurence entered the room. He stopped short on the threshold, astonished at the presence of those two men. He looked from one to the other in amazement. Then turning on Hinchley, demanded in stern wrath how he had dared to enter that dwelling. Sybil heard his voice, and made a wild effort to shake off the terror which was crushing her to the earth; but, as she attempted to unvail her face, the smiling look with which Yates stood regarding her made every nerve in her body shrink and shiver.
Laurence glanced at her, and once more turned on Hinchley.
"Why are you here, sir, and who is that man?"
"Hush, hush!" returned Ralph, mournfully. "You will have enough to repent, Edward; be silent now."
Before Laurence could speak, Yates stepped toward Sybil, seized her by the arm, and forced her to stand up.
"Come," he said, "you and I are going away from here."