"Boy, I forgive—I forgive: but—Emily, no, no, cannot, cannot be—Julian—she—she is your sister!" and the old man swooned away, from loss of blood and the excitement of that awful scene.
Not a word in reply said that poor sinner, maddened with his life-long crimes, the fratricide in will, the parricide in deed, and all for—a sister. But growing whiter as he stood, a marble man with bristling hair, he slowly drew the other pistol from his pocket, put the muzzle to his mouth, and, firing as he fell, leapt into the darkly-flowing Mullet!
The current, all too violent to sink in, and uncommissioned now to save, hurried its black burden to the sea; and a crimson streak of gore marked the track of the suicide.
The old man was not dead; but a brace of bullets taking effect upon his feeble frame—one through the shoulder, and another which had grazed his head—had been quite enough to make him seem so. Forgetful of all but that dear sufferer, and totally ignorant of Julian's fate—for she neither saw nor heard any thing, nor feared even for her own imminent peril, while her father lay dying on the grass—Emily had torn off her scarf, and bound up, as well as she could, the ghastly scored head and broken shoulder. She succeeded in staunching the blood—for no great vessel had been severed—and so simple an application as grass dipped in water, proved to be a good specific. Then, to her exceeding joy, those eyes opened again, and that dear tongue faintly whispered—"Bless you."
Oh, that blessing! for it fell upon her heart: and fervently she knelt down there, and thanked the Great Preserver.
And now, for friendly help; there is no one near: and it is growing dusk; and she dared not leave him there alone one minute—for Julian—dreaded Julian, may return, and kill him. What shall she do? How to get him home? Alas, alas! he may die where he is lying.
Hark, Emmy, hark! The shouts of happy children bursting out of school! See, dearest—see: here they come homewards merrily from Oxton.
Thus, rewarded through the instrumentality of her own benevolence, help was speedily obtained; and Mrs. Sainsbury's invalid-chair, hurried to the spot by an escort of indignant rustics, soon conveyed the recovering patient to the comforts of his own home, and the appliances of medical assistance.