“Yes,” replied O’Donahue. “I cannot refuse my consent after what you have said.”
Two days after this conversation the parties separated: O’Donahue, with his wife, accompanied by Dimitri, set off on their return to Saint Petersburg; while McShane, who had provided himself with a proper passport, got into the diligence, accompanied by little Joey, on his way back to England.
Chapter Seventeen.
The Day after the Murder.
We must now return to the village of Grassford, and the cottage in which we left Rushbrook and his wife, who had been raised up from the floor, by her husband, and, having now recovered from her swoon, was crying bitterly for the loss of her son, and the dread of her husband’s crime being discovered. For some time Rushbrook remained in silence, looking at the embers in the grate: Mum sometimes would look piteously in his master’s face, at other times he would slowly approach the weeping woman. The intelligence of the animal told him that something was wrong. Finding himself unnoticed, he would then go to the door by which Joey had quitted, snuff at the crevice, and return to his master’s side.
“I’m glad that he’s off,” at last muttered Rushbrook; “he’s a fine boy, that.”
“Yes, he is,” replied Jane; “but when shall I behold him again?”
“By-and-bye, never fear, wife. We must not stay in this place, provided this affair blows over.”