“Let him go!” said Abel Force, in desperation. “Let him go. But I do not think he will catch Anglesea. He has probably taken a carriage, for I heard wheels roll away from the door before I released Le.”
“Sir, can I be of any further service here?” inquired the aged minister, coming forward.
“No, reverend sir, you cannot; but you will perhaps take some refreshments before you leave,” replied Mr. Force.
“Not any, I thank you. This has been a most agitating evening. If I can serve you in any manner, at this trying crisis, pray command me.”
“We thank you very much.”
“If my presence to-morrow can avail in any way——”
“I do not think it can, yet I should be glad to have you come.”
“I will meet you,” said the rector. And after shaking hands all around he left the room.
Mr. Force stepped quickly over to where his wife sat by his daughter’s easy-chair, holding her hand.
Odalite’s violent paroxysm of distress was over, but she still sobbed with a low, gasping breath as she lay back in a state of exhaustion.