“No—no: her heart beats—and her lips already begin to move,” responded Mrs. Mortimer hastily, as she held the still senseless maiden in her arms. “Well—this is a lucky chance that has thrown her in our way—and there’s money to be made out of it.”
“So much the better? Shall I get a little water?” asked the Doctor.
“Yes—and use despatch,” returned Mrs. Mortimer.
Jack Rily entered the kitchen, and filled a glass with water.
“Who is it?” demanded Vitriol Bob, whom the Doctor had previously restored to his position in the chair.
“A young lady that Mrs. Mortimer happens to know,” was the reply. “There is no danger from other visitors, according to all appearances: so keep quiet, and don’t alarm yourself.”
The Doctor hastened back into the passage, where Mrs. Mortimer was seated on the last step of the staircase, supporting Agnes in her arms.
“Now, will you follow my advice, Mr. Rily?” she demanded in a rapid tone, as she sprinkled the water upon the pallid countenance of the young lady.
“Yes—if it seems feasible,” was the immediate answer. “What is it?”
“That we do not keep this timid thing a moment longer in the house than is absolutely necessary,” continued Mrs. Mortimer. “For our own sakes we must guard against her beholding the interior of that place;” and, as she uttered these words in a low tone, she nodded significantly towards the door of the back kitchen where the corpse of Torrens had been deposited.