CHAPTER XII.
DANGEROUS MOMENTS.
When the first inquiry as to the cause of Elsie Wray’s death was ended, and the adjournment announced, something which he could not resist drew John Temple to the side of the room where May Churchill and her father were standing.
“Well,” he said, addressing May, “one part at least of a very painful affair for you is over.”
May looked gratefully up in his face.
“Yes, it has been most painful, but I am so very, very sorry for Mr. Wray. I should like to go and shake hands with him, but he has never looked at me,” answered May.
“Still, I think I should go,” advised John; “the feeling that true sympathy is given to us is always grateful.”
“Then I will go.”
The landlord was standing with a stern face and kindling eyes as she approached him. He had just watched the departure of Henderson and his groom, and he believed now that Henderson had, to say the least of it, been the cause of Elsie’s death. He had read the insulting letter the young man had sent her, and with his own tongue he had acknowledged there had been “some talk of a marriage” between them. Deceived and betrayed, the poor girl might have put an end to her own life. But not less did James Wray consider him Elsie’s murderer, and he was vowing vengeance in his heart when May Churchill, with her flower-like face, drew near him and placed her small hand timidly in his.
“Mr. Wray,” she said, and that was all. But the landlord needed not words to tell him of the true feelings of her heart. In that gentle touch, in those beautiful eyes, he read her great sympathy and regret. He felt sure she did not despise nor scorn his dead Elsie, and that her womanly tenderness forgave all her shortcomings. His hard eyes grew dim, and he placed a horny brown hand in her white pretty one.
“Thank you, my dear,” he said, and turned away to hide his emotion.