While he was talking, the door was opened suddenly, and Juanita rushed into the room.
“Lord have mercy on us, she mustn’t see that,” cried Lambert, pointing to the carpet.
Matthew Dalbrook hurried forward to meet her, and caught her in his arms before she could reach that fatal spot. He held her there, looking at her with pitying eyes, while Theodore approached slowly, silently, agonized by the sight of her agony. The change from the joyous self-abandonment of yesterday to the rigid horror of to-day was the most appalling transformation that he had ever looked upon. Her face was of a livid pallor, her large dark eyes were distended and fixed, and all their brilliancy was quenched like a light blown out. Her blanched lips trembled as she tried to speak, and it was after several futile efforts to express her meaning that she finally succeeded in shaping a sentence distinctly.
“Have they found his murderer?”
“Not yet, dearest. It is far too soon to hope for that. But it is not for you to think about that, Juanita. All will be done—be sure—rest secure in the devotion of those who love you; and——” with a break in his voice, “who loved him.”
She lifted her head quickly, with an angry light in the eyes which had been so dull till that moment.
“Do you think I will leave that work to others?” she said. “It is my business, it is all that God has left me to do in this world. It is my business to see that his murderer suffers,—not as I suffer—that can never be,—but all that the law can do—the law which is so merciful to murderers nowadays. You don’t think he can get off lightly, do you, uncle? They will hang him, won’t they? Hang him—hang him—hang him,” she repeated, in hoarse dull syllables. “A few moments’ agony after a night of terror. So little—so little! And I have to live my desolate life. My punishment is for a lifetime.”
“My love, God will be good to you. He can lighten all burdens,” murmured Mr. Dalbrook, gently.
“He cannot lighten mine, not by the weight of a single hair. He has stretched forth His hand against me in hatred and anger, perhaps because I loved His creature better than I loved Him.”
“My dearest, this is madness——”