"Yes; she went over shortly after you went away. Poor Christie, it seems, wanted her for something, and sent her a note. What it contained I cannot say; but it seemed to agitate Sibyl as I have seldom seen her agitated before; and the result of it was that she insisted, despite the gathering storm, on going to the island that night."
What was the thought that made Willard Drummond turn so ghastly at that moment?
Had Christie, in that note, revealed their marriage? and had Sibyl, in a fit of passion—he shrank in horror, in loathing of himself at the terrible thought that the arch-fiend suggested at that moment. Wild, vindictive, passionate, frenzied in her rage, he knew her to be; but, oh! never, never could even her terrific passion carry her so far away as to raise her hand against that gentle child's life. But who could have done it? Christie, the unknown island-girl, had not an enemy in the world except Sibyl; and she, in violent agitation, had braved storm, and danger, and death to reach the island that night. Oh, horrible thought! With his brain reeling with conflicting emotions, he felt for the moment as if his very reason was leaving him.
Captain Campbell, sitting placidly before him, sipping his coffee, saw nothing of what was passing in Drummond's thoughts; and setting his unexpected emotion down, partially, to the morbid state of his mind since his father's death, and the want of rest, arose and said:
"My dear Drummond, you must be tired and worn out with your journey. You had better retire at once. I will call here this afternoon again. When do you intend visiting N——?"
"Any time, to-day, to-morrow, immediately," answered Drummond, incoherently, scarcely conscious of what he said.
"I am going there to-morrow. What say you to going then?" said his companion, with a stare of surprise.
"I shall be at your service," said Drummond, striving to rally himself. "What with fatigue and all, I am rather bewildered as yet; but I trust by that time to be far enough recruited to pay my devoirs to the ladies at the parsonage."
"Very strange, I must say!" mused Captain Campbell, as he ran down the steps and entered the crowded street. "Very strange, indeed, that the news of little Christie's death should so affect him. I had some notion once that Sibyl was a little jealous of Christie; and, faith, I begin to think she may have had some cause for it. But, perhaps, I wrong Drummond after all. He is not very excitable usually, I know; but his mind being unusually troubled, Christie's dreadful death may have given him a shock. He dare not trifle with Sibyl; if he does, he will feel the weight of a Campbell's vengeance!"
Willard meantime had secured a private room, and was pacing up and down, and striving to collect his thoughts. The first shock was over—the first thrill of horror at the news was past; and though sorrow for her fate, and bitter remorse for what he himself had done still remained, he could not suppress something very like a feeling of relief.