Mrs Palmer read on; and the old woman’s breath came fainter and fainter still, and her hands grew feebler, till as almost the last words came, “Deliver her from fear of the enemy, and lift up the light of Thy countenance upon her, and give her peace,” Jeanie sprang up from her knees with a scream, and let the candle she held fall over and go out upon the floor.
There, within the door, stood Guy, white and wild, with eyes that seemed the very home of fear.
He came unsteadily forward, and, as Godfrey started up, sank on his knees by the bedside.
Mrs Waynflete opened her eyes wide, and looked hard at him, struggling to speak.
“Aunt Margaret,” he said, steadily and clearly, “I am not too late; I can’t satisfy your mind about the business, but you may be satisfied with me. I have got past, and I have come. You can die in peace.”
It hardly seemed as if it was Guy who spoke, but old Margaret understood. She looked at him and smiled, a strange sweet smile, such as had never been seen on her lips before, and before memory could remind her of what she had done or left undone, her head fell back, and, with hardly a straggle, she was gone.
Guy stood up for a moment, looked vaguely round him, then fell forward across the foot of the bed, as unconscious and as death-like as she.