"Thank you, I do not require it," said Sibyl, rising with an effort, and striving to be calm. "Have you any idea what time Christie left the house?"
"Not the slightest idee; 'cause I was asleep at the time. Carl says—though there's no puttin' confidence in him—that, somewheres 'bout midnight, he seed a woman runnin' through the storm, and singin' out 'murder!' But in course he was dreaming; there couldn't hev bin any sich thing."
"Oh, merciful Heaven! then it was no delusion on my part, since I heard it, too. Oh, this is dreadful!" said Sibyl, wringing her hands.
"Miss Sibyl, what's happened?" said Mrs. Tom, growing very pale.
"Oh, Mrs. Tom! Heaven help you, Christie!"
"Christie! what of her?" cried Mrs. Tom, grasping a chair to steady herself.
"Oh, Mrs. Tom! must I tell you? Christie, I fear, went out last night in the storm, and—oh, Heaven!" said Sibyl, sinking into a chair, with a convulsive shudder.
"And what, Miss Sibyl? Tell me, quick! Was she swept away in the storm?" said Mrs. Tom, striving to strangle her trembling tones.
"Oh, worse—worse! I fear; still worse!" said Sibyl, wildly.
"Oh, my soul! what has happened? Oh, Christie! dear Christie! where are you?"