How strongly amidst the wildest chaos of doubt and anguish does the instinct of self-preservation ever remain in the ascendant. All other thoughts quickly passed away, and the one absorbing idea of securing his own safety filled his whole breast. He thought, with a start of alarm, what conjectures his strange questions and wild excitement must have given rise to in the mind of his wife, and resolved that, for the future, come what might, he would be on his guard, and not commit himself by betraying his emotions.
"I must leave this place immediately," was his thought, "before suspicion will have time to fix on me, and trust to time and absence for security. But first, I must find some clue to this horrible mystery. Oh! that dreadful night. Oh, that it could be forever blotted from my memory."
Even while he spoke, an unusual bustle below met his ear. He heard voices speaking in quick, excited tones; then a scream, and then the sound of many feet hurrying to and fro.
With the one idea, the one dread thought of his guilt being discovered, ever uppermost in his mind, he listened in an agony of impatience for what might follow.
Still the bustle and excitement continued, and, wrought up to a fever of anxiety, he was about to rise and go in quest of information, when the door suddenly opened, and Laura, pale, trembling, and horror-stricken, stood before him.
"In the name of Heaven, what is the matter, Laura?" he asked, in a voice hoarse with agitation.
"Oh, Edgar! you have not heard the dreadful news?" she said, trembling.
"What dreadful news? Speak and tell me instantly," he said, grasping her arm, and setting his teeth hard.
"You remember that lovely little island-girl, Christie?"
"Yes; what of her?" he said, turning frightfully pale.