"I love Herbert more than my own soul," answered Rachel, and from this strange perverse attitude she could not be moved.
For the next two or three days Herbert's life hung as by a thread. The doctor almost gave him up, but in the end he rallied. His own strong constitution and Rachel's tender nursing prevailed, and he slowly grew stronger. Then he repented, and wept in his weakness; implored Rachel not to leave him, and declared that it was for her sake that he had bribed Slade. Rachel required little persuasion to believe in these protestations, which were perhaps quite sincere. Base as Herbert had proved himself to be, he truly loved her, and, knowing this, she promised to marry him as soon as he could leave his bed. Although Carwell anticipated that her obstinacy would lead to this result, he was in despair at the prospect of its realization.
As the days went by, Inspector Chard made all search for Lee, but failed to find a trace of him. From the moment he ran out into the night the man had not been seen. His tribe knew nothing of him--or said they knew nothing,--and, although the police scoured the country for miles around, no trace of the fugitive could be discovered. Then Chard relaxed his search, and began to pay frequent visits to the farmhouse to make inquiries after Herbert's health. Rachel scented the danger.
"Why do you ask so often about Herbert?" she demanded one day.
"I wish to know when it will be safe to remove him to Poldew gaol," said the inspector, frankly.
Rachel was not so astonished at this reply as might have been expected.
"You accuse him of the murder?" said she, scornfully.
"Yes. And I intend to arrest him on suspicion. Mayne had a reason for ridding himself of the girl, and he was the last person to see her alive. And I believe he is guilty of her death. However, that can be proved when he is tried."
"You intend to arrest him, then?"
"Yes; as soon as the doctor says he can be moved."