When she heard this Belle sank down upon a chair overwhelmed. Then the two doctors, assisted by Harold, set to work to carry Edward Cossey into another room which had been rapidly prepared, leaving Mr. Quest alone with his wife.
He came, stood in front of her, looked her in the face, and then laughed.
“Upon my word,” he said, “we men are bad enough, but you women beat us in wickedness.”
“What do you mean?” she said faintly.
“I mean that you are a murderess, Belle,” he said solemnly. “And you are a bungler, too. You could not hold the gun straight.”
“I deny it,” she said, “the gun went off——”
“Yes,” he said, “you are wise to make no admissions; they might be used in evidence against you. Let me counsel you to make no admissions. But now look here. I suppose the man will have to lie in this house until he recovers or dies, and that you will help to nurse him. Well, I will have none of your murderous work going on here. Do you hear me? You are not to complete at leisure what you have begun in haste.”
“What do you take me for?” she asked, with some return of spirit; “do you think that I would injure a wounded man?”
“I do not know,” he answered, with a shrug, “and as for what I take you for, I take you for a woman whose passion has made her mad,” and he turned and left the room.
When they had carried Edward Cossey, dead or alive—and he looked more like death than life—up to the room prepared for him, seeing that he could be of no further use the Colonel left the house with a view of going to the Castle.