"That wasn't the verdict, Hesba," Hiram Powlett said, as he seated himself at the table; "I wish to God it had been. There was things came out at the trial as altogether altered the case. We found as one had been quarrelling with Miss Carne, and threatening what he would do to her. We found as something belonging to him had been found close at hand, where it could only have been put somewhere about the time of the murder. We found as the person couldn't tell us where he had been at the time; and though it were sorely against us to do it, and seemed the most unnatural thing in the world, we had to find a verdict of wilful murder against Captain Mervyn."
Ruth had risen from her seat as her father was speaking; her face had grown whiter and whiter as he went on, and one hand had gone to her heart, while the other clutched at the back of the chair. As he finished she gave a sudden start, and burst into a scream of hysterical laughter, so startling Hiram Powlett and his wife, neither of whom was looking at her, that the former upset his chair as he started to his feet, while the latter dropped the plate she was in the act of setting before him.
For some minutes the wild laughter rang through the house. Hesba had at once taken the girl in her arms, and seated her in the chair again, and after trying for a minute or two vainly to soothe her, turned to Hiram.
"Don't stand staring there, Hiram; run for the doctor. Look what you have done, with your stories about your courts and your verdicts. You have just scared her out of her mind."
Fortunately as Hiram ran up into the village street he saw Dr. Arrowsmith—who had waited at The Hold, talking over the matter to some of his neighbours—driving down the hill, and at once fetched him in to Ruth.
"The girl is in violent hysterics, Hiram," the doctor said, as soon as he had entered. "Carry her upstairs, and lay her down on the bed; it's no use trying to get her to drink that now"—for Mrs. Powlett was trying in vain to get Ruth to take some brandy—"she cannot swallow. Now I will help you upstairs with her. The great thing is to get her to lie down."
It seemed hours to Hiram Powlett, as he listened to the wild screaming and laughter overhead, but in reality it was not many minutes before the doctor came down again.
"I am going to drive home and get some chloroform," he said, "I shan't be two minutes gone;" and before Hiram could ask a question he hurried out, jumped into his dogcart, and drove off.
There was no change until his return, except that once or twice there was a moment's cessation in the screaming. Hiram could not remain in the house, but went out and walked up and down until the doctor returned.
"No change, I hear," the latter remarked, as he jumped down from the dogcart, for Ruth's cries could be heard down at the gate of the garden.