"What is it?" inquired Miss Pendleton, without removing her eyes from his face.
The sheriff stooped and told her in a whisper.
She turned pale as death, caught her breath, and leaned for an instant on the table near her. Then, with a supreme effort, she stood up and said:
"You have known me from my childhood. Do you think me such a dastard as to desert my friend in the hour of her utmost need? No, Mr. Fortescue; I will stand by Sybil to the last. So do your duty! Thank Heaven, you cannot hurt her much!"
"Thank Heaven indeed, if that is so, Beatrix," answered the sheriff, as he made a sign to Mr. Berners, and approached the bed with the death warrant in his hand.
"Sybil, darling," whispered her agonized husband, "here is Mr. Fortescue come to see you."
"Has he? that is kind," she answered, looking curiously at her own fingers, and then forgetting the presence of her visitors.
"How are you, Mrs. Berners?" inquired the sheriff.
"I am better. I am going home to-morrow, and then you must come and—" She broke off suddenly, and began to feel about with her fingers over the white counterpane.
"Good Heaven!" exclaimed the sheriff, looking up into Mr. Berner's face.