“I could not help hearing all that passed,” was the reply. “It was my duty to be present. I have, of course, had some experience of such cases, and I fear that he must have been drinking heavily in riotous company, and these ideas have become impressed upon his brain.”
“And they are fancies?”
“I think so, but as he grows stronger these ideas will weaken, and you, his sister—and you— Ah, men are sometimes very weak, but to whom should they come for forgiveness when weak and repentant, if not to us?”
“But I won’t believe my Mark has been going on as she hinted,” said Janet, through her tears, as she walked away, weeping bitterly, and clinging tightly to Rich’s arm.
“No; it is impossible,” replied Rich; and with the feeling upon her that it was her duty to suffer for all in turn, and be calm and patient, she fought down her own longing to burst into a passionate fit of weeping, and walked on to resume her watch by her father’s side, where he lay still insensible, as if in a sleep which must end in death.
“Rich dear, if it is true, and poor Mark was drugged and robbed, the wretch who did it shall be brought to justice, shall he not?”
“Yes,” said Rich, as she clasped the weeping girl to her breast.
And as she sat there in the silent chamber, through the dark watches of the night, at times a feeling of exultation and joy filled her breast, while at others a hot pang of rage shot through her, and she felt that she could slay the wretch who had raised a hand against him who had returned to her as from the dead.