“How dare you bring that beast here?” she demanded shrilly, yet—as Dick observed mechanically—lowered her voice lest those in the near drawing-room should overhear, “he ruined my brother and murdered him.”
“It’s a lie,” said Sorley savagely, and glared fiercely at her.
“Beast! beast! it’s the truth, it’s the——” she stopped, and her hand went to her heart suddenly, “My drops, my drops,” she staggered to the door, avoiding her enemy even at the moment of pain. “Wait, wait,” she breathed hurriedly to Latimer, “weak heart—drops—a moment a——” she almost reeled out of the room, seeking medicine to recover her from the shock which Sorley’s presence had inflicted upon her.
“Is her heart weak?” asked Alan, turning to the man.
“Not that I ever heard of,” he retorted sharply, and wiping his face, “she was all right when at Belstone twenty years ago. Perhaps it is weak now. I wish it would break and she would fall dead.”
“You mustn’t say such things, Mr. Sorley,” said Dick frowning.
“But I shall. What would you say of a woman who ruined you?”
“She’s not ruined you yet,” remarked Alan, soothingly; “if you are innocent you will be set free.”
“Oh, I shall be set free all right, even if I have to drink poison to rid myself of my bonds,” said the old man, recklessly. “Oh, that woman, that woman, you don’t know of what she is capable. Wait till she returns and hear the lies she will tell. All is against me, and only she can prove that I did not take the peacock from her brother. But I am innocent; I swear before heaven that I am innocent.”
“Hush! Don’t make a row,” said Dick, who did not wish the house to be disturbed, and for the next ten minutes both he and Alan were trying to reduce the excited man to a quieter frame of mind. Miss Grison was absent quite that time, if not a few moments longer, and when she returned her looks were much stronger and more composed.