Chapter Twenty Two.
“The Woman is a Witch.”
It was Saxa Lydon who said those words, for the old man’s face became suddenly convulsed; his head dropped back, and, as Neil sank on one knee and passed his arm beneath the neck, it turned sidewise, with the eyes seeming to gaze reproachfully into his, but there was neither sight nor understanding then.
The grey dawn was creeping into the room when Ralph Elthorne recovered consciousness, and looked up questioningly in his son’s face.
But he did not speak for a time, only let his eyes wander about the room, and they saw that he appeared to be noting who were present, his gaze resting long on both his sons, his daughter, sister, and the nurse.
At last he spoke.
“Isabel.”
She ran to his side, and sank upon her knees.
“The girls?” he said feebly. “Saxa—Dana?”