"Is she asleep?" whispered Ellen.
"I don't know," said Dan in a troubled voice; "it is dreadful to see her with that expression on her face."
It was an expression of suppressed watchfulness; that her firmly-compressed lips and wandering eyes were at variance might have been due to the peculiar circumstances of her life; but in the cunning and revengeful determination in her face there was no sign of indecision. It was as though she had staked her life on the accomplishment of a task.
As she turned from the window and approached Dan, he seized her hand. "Susan," he said, gently, "speak to me, my dear. What is the meaning of this?"
She laid her hand upon his head, and said, "Poor Dan! And you loved her, and she is lost to you."
"Not lost, Susey," he said, detaining her hand and humoring her, for he was afraid that her reason was gone; "not lost. She will come back."
"She will never come back--never, never! When she hears that he is dead--he is lying dead up stairs, Dan--she will never come back; she will drown herself first; for she loved him, and me too; and would have loved you, Dan, but for that false-hearted friend.
"You must not say that, Susey," said Dan, pointing to Ellen, who had turned aside weeping. "Look at Ellen. He is her husband, and he is not false-hearted. For her sake you must have kinder, juster thoughts towards Jo."
But Susan did not catch the sense of his words. All that she understood was, that he was speaking in defence of Joshua.
"All in his favor," she muttered. "If any one is to blame, it is Minnie--that's what all of you will say. But I know better; I know better. Didn't I watch them? Didn't I see him making love to her on the ship? Didn't I see the poor dear that's lying dead up stairs tortured slowly to death? And don't I know who killed him?"