"My dear Arranmore, tell me the truth; do you not now fear? hide nothing if you know it from me. Oh, deceive me not, you too are anxious."
Often when we wish to comfort people we say the worst things we can by a sort of heartless chance—contrariety. The Marquis, anxious to alleviate her fears by assigning a cause for her husband's absence, said the very worst thing he could.
"I think it is not at all unlikely, Ellen, that Wentworth has heard the news, and gone off with soldiers to the spot."
"Gracious Heavens!" cried the Countess, "I never thought of that; it is too true, that must be it, and he is now in those dreadful ruffians' power,—he is perhaps, wounded,—he may be—"
But her lips refused to frame the word, all she thought to say was lost in a wild scream, as she sunk on the floor, in a dead swoon. The Marquis, terrified at what he had thoughtlessly done, rang the bell, while he lifted the insensible lady, and placed her on a sofa. The fit proved a long and dangerous one, and it was not till the doctor had been sent for that Lord Arranmore felt free from alarm. The medical gentleman said there was no cause for any apprehension, and in a short time she would recover. In the excitement occasioned by the Countess's illness the absence of the Earl was partially lost sight of, and whilst the Marquis was bending over the patient, he was somewhat surprised by the sudden reappearance of the Earl in propriâ personâ, who when his lady's illness was told him, rushed to the drawing-room, and forcing his way through the surrounding servants, in an agony of fear pressed his wife's hand, exclaiming:
"I knew it, see what my folly in not telling her has done. I think everything is leagued to rob me of my mind to-night,—mysterious guides, horrid butcheries, robbers' dens, and now my wife dying."
The voice of her husband acted as a restorative when the doctor was beginning to think all would fail, and the Countess opened her eyes. When she saw the object of her solicitude she burst into tears, crying—
"God be thanked you are safe, my own Wentworth! where have you been? why did you leave me?"
"My darling, I could not help it, I was unwillingly lured away, but you shall hear all when you are better; we must get you to bed at once, the horrors of this evening have been too much for you."
The Countess grew rapidly better, and ere long was calmly sleeping away her terrors, whilst the Earl drew the Marquis aside and told him the cause of his absence. For more than two hours they were closely closeted together, and as they shook hands the Earl said: