The wind died away in a long howl, and Lord Glenfallen, suddenly checking his merriment, shrugged his shoulders, and muttered:
“Poor devil, she has been hardly used.”
“We had better not tease her at present with questions,” said I, in as unconcerned a tone as I could assume, although I felt every moment as if I should faint.
“Humph! may be so,” said he. “Well, come back in an hour or two, or when you please, and you will find us here.”
He again unlocked the door, and entered with the same precautions which he had adopted before, locking the door upon the inside; and as I hurried from the room, I heard his voice again exerted as if in eager parley.
I can hardly describe my emotions; my hopes had been raised to the highest, and now, in an instant, all was gone: the dreadful consummation was accomplished—the fearful retribution had fallen upon the guilty man—the mind was destroyed, the power to repent was gone.
The agony of the hours which followed what I would still call my awful interview with Lord Glenfallen, I cannot describe; my solitude was, however, broken in upon by Martha, who came to inform me of the arrival of a gentleman, who expected me in the parlour.
I accordingly descended, and, to my great joy, found my father seated by the fire.
This expedition upon his part was easily accounted for: my communications had touched the honour of the family. I speedily informed him of the dreadful malady which had fallen upon the wretched man.
My father suggested the necessity of placing some person to watch him, to prevent his injuring himself or others.