It was evident that he considered her blind and deaf, as well as paralyzed, else he never would have exposed his principal as he did in these violent imprecations.
So the train glided on upon its midnight journey, and the man turned his back to his intended victim. But she was adoring God in her heart of hearts for her dear life's preservation.
Her cold stoicism melted, the bitter fortitude with which she had looked for death fled. How could she have cast that reproachful thought at Heaven and believed herself forsaken?
Her heart swelled with gratitude and remorse now that she saw her mistake; and, although she could not move an eye-lash, her emotion surged higher and higher until it burst through the barriers of the spell which bound her, and great tears gushed from her eyes.
At the first station they came to, the man rose to leave the car. He glanced sharply at Margaret's wet face, and jerked down the window that she might have some air, then, with an oath, stumbled over Purcell's feet and got out.
Then the long night crept by, and gradually the lady and her servant recovered, and spoke to each other.
"Purcell, do you know me?"
She was chafing the old man's temples, and applying her smelling-salts to his nose.
"Eh? ha? My conscience! Is that you, miss?" mumbled the steward, with a thick tongue and a vacant look at her.
"Are you better?"