He immediately hurried from the room to procure the necessary medical attendance.
Beatrix ran after him, calling loudly:
"Send for her husband and her old nurse from Black Hall, also. I know it is after hours, but I believe she is dying."
The warden nodded assent, and hurried away, leaving Miss Pendleton in attendance upon the agonized woman, who recovered from one convulsion only to fall into another and severer one.
It was midnight, and a sorrowful and anxious group were gathered in Sybil's cell. She lay upon her bed, writhing with agony, and upon the very verge of death.
Near her stood her old family physician Dr. Hart, her old nurse Mrs. Winterose, and her faithful attendant Miss Tabby.
In the lobby, outside the cell door, sat her husband, with his face buried in his hands, wrestling in prayer with heaven.
What was he praying for? That his idolized young wife should be spared in this mortal peril? No, no, and a thousand times no! With all his heart and soul he prayed that she might die—that she might die e'er that dread warrant, which had arrived from Richmond only that morning, and which fixed her execution for an early day, could be carried out!
This agony of prayer was interrupted. The doctor came out of the cell, and whispered: