“For three days I watched—with what a trial to the patience can readily be imagined—this human spider torturing the poor fly he had got into his web: he cool, courteous, and insinuating as he worked out his scheme; she growing weaker and weaker, and losing all strength and courage, only to find it again to take one last desperate step, and thus for ever put an end to the torture she was suffering.
“Yet all this while her husband seemed to notice nothing amiss with her, though her eyes were often red with weeping, and her face wore a settled look of melancholy and despair.
“Not that he failed in affection or tenderness, only he was one of those men who, in the goodness of their own digestions and the smoothness of their life-stream, look upon dyspepsia as a popular delusion, and cannot understand why any one should be unhappy.
“It was the evening of the fourth day since Murray’s arrival, and after dinner I had left him and Charlie discussing a bottle of ’54 Chateau Margaux and their old Paris days, and was wandering down a side-path that led into the plantation, when I suddenly trod on something.
“Looking downward, I saw that it was a pocket-book, of somewhat bulky dimensions. There was only one thing to be done—namely, to pick it up, unclasp it, and examine the contents—which, I need scarcely add, I faithfully did.
“This investigation having been satisfactorily accomplished, I placed the pocket-book in my pocket, and strolled on into the plantation, again to reflect what my next move with Mr. Murray should be. I knew the game was in my hands “now;” my only puzzle was, how to play it without making a disturbance.
“Still, what was to be done must be done quickly. As I came to this determination I found myself standing by a small lake that lay in the midst of the plantation; almost at the same moment I heard a groan, as of some one in distress.
“Turning eagerly to the direction whence it seemed to come; through the dusk which was now growing into darkness, I saw the flutter of a white dress near the head of the lake. I know not what possessed me, but a thought seized me that sent me tearing through the bushes and brambles with frantic speed.
“A few seconds more, and I had caught Mrs. Forrester by the wrist.
“‘What would you do, woman?’ I exclaimed, breathless.