"I have not come here to betray him," said Roger, "but neither need you try to hide it from me. I saw him—God help me! shall I ever get it out of my eyes? I saw him, but I was too late to save. I saw him kneeling, striking at him, striking at him! God! I think I see it now."
He leant against the wall looking as if he would faint; but Elizabeth did not faint. She stood, the colour of death, with her arms crossed upon her bosom. If there had been any possibility of denial or resistance she would have resisted and denied; but there was none, and she needed no explanation. "He is mad," she said, "mad—he's no responsible—mad! Do you hear what I say?"
"I've tracked him all the way," said Roger. "I know he must have been here hours ago; more than one met me, but no one had seen him. God knows what people may think of the trouble I was in. I thought after a time it might put them on the scent, and then I asked no further questions; but no one had seen him. They will not think of looking for him here, if you are prudent; but you must keep him still, and not let him move. Give me a draught of milk and I will go home and watch over everything. If it is suspected where he is I will send you word."
"Mr Ridley, I will pray for you night and day on my bended knees," said Elizabeth. "Oh, he's mad, my lad! he's no responsible. And oh, you, a stranger, to take this burden upon you! What can I say? what can I say?"
"I saw him by accident," said Roger. "God help us. I am perhaps to blame; he got insult through me, and he saved my life; and Lily," said the young man, turning for a moment to look at her—"but all that's over now," he added, with a sigh.
Lily had sat down on the step by the house door. She had hidden her face in her hands and was weeping quietly, overpowered by the despair about her. He was near enough to be within reach of her, and he put his hand on her head. "Yes, it's over," he said, "it's all over," with a sudden break of sobs in his voice. Who could think of happiness, or love, or anything sweet in life now? His heart was sick with wretchedness and horror. Roger did not know how he was ever to take up the common things of existence again, how to get that spectacle out of his eyes.
It was Elizabeth herself who brought him out and served to him, solemnly, as if it had been a sacrament, those simplest elements of food, the common oaten cake and bowl of milk which was their ordinary cottage fare. Lily sat and wept—her heart was broken—but the mother, with her heavier burden, did everything. The two young creatures thrown down there in moaning and despair—she leaning her head against the cottage wall, he lying on the turf with his face buried in his hands, were lightly weighted in comparison; but Elizabeth's heart yearned over them, sorry for the trouble they were so much less capable of bearing. "You must not stay here," she said to Roger, softly. "Oh, God bless you, my young gentleman, and put me and mine out of your head, and all that's happened this dreadful day! But you're rested now, and you mustna bide here."
Roger rose reluctantly from the grass; the moment of rest had softened his heart. He stood, looking disconsolately, wistfully, at the girl whom he had so foolishly loved. He knew how foolish it had always been, and it had fled from him like a shadow in presence of all the terrible events of the morning. But when he looked back upon her now, seated there in all the abandonment of the catastrophe, her pale face lying back against the grey wall, her pretty hair falling from the comb, her eyes shut, and two great tears stealing down her cheeks, a great pang went through Roger's heart. Love and honour and pain strove in him. Could he take her to him under this shadow of madness and ruin? Could he leave her without a word? He stood for a moment irresolute—then made a hasty step towards her, and stooping down, kissed her forehead. "Farewell, my Lily! Farewell, my Lily!" he said, then turned, and went quickly away. Lily uttered a low moaning cry—she made no other response. It was all over, all over! There was nothing more to say.
Then the silence of the hills fell around the little house, folded up with its secret in it, among the great slopes of the mountains. The first night fell upon them, half a benediction in its darkness and quiet, half an aggravation of the unseen dangers that now seemed to hem them in. Dick sat up and watched all night, while his mother sat by the bedside of the fugitive, who lay between stupor and raving, and had recognised none of them, though they thought he was soothed by his mother's presence and touch. Long were the hours of darkness, though so few in the soft summer weather, which was then exceptionally soft for the north. As for Lily, she was made to go to bed, with kind tyranny, by both mother and brother, and slept, and was ashamed of herself for sleeping. And then came the dawn again, tranquil and awful, the first morning after the calamity,—the revelation of that changed world in which no longer all was well. But the cows and the chickens had to be looked to all the more that they had been neglected the night before, and that was a consolation so far as it went. The day went on quietly enough. They were on the alert for every sound, and Watch was posted out on the hillside at a little distance to give an alarm if any one should come; but no one came. And whatever might be doing down in the low country, whatsoever course suspicion might be taking, whether Abel was thought of at all in connection with the murder, or who was thought of instead of him, here none could tell. Lily, heartsick, did her share of the work, casting wistful looks down the road, and letting her heart and her eyes roam downwards upon the water far in the distance, radiant with sunshine, or dim with shadow, where all the business of life was being enacted, though she knew not how. The others were glad (if that could be called gladness) when the day was over without any incident; but oh how long was the day to Lily, with her heart fluttering away upon the far horizon, and this killing silence round her! And it was all over, the other life, all over! Was this henceforward to be the tenor of her days: this and the madman up-stairs who was said to be her brother? Had ever any one before so hard a lot to bear? Lily repeated to herself that her mother was old, and "wrapt-up" in "the boys," and Dick "did not mind;" but she who had no boys, and was not old, and whose life was over, all over! What was there so forlorn and terrible as this fate which had fallen upon her?
It had come to be dark again; night falling, the time of terror, and great stars coming out into the sky, peering over the shoulders of the hills, and leaning out of the blue to see all that could be seen. The family had come in and shut their door; never on a summer night had that door been shut before; but it was always a bulwark the more in defence of the wretched one within. Elizabeth came and went between the room where he lay and the kitchen, where Lily sat by the smouldering fire, crying in the darkness. There was no light in the room; they wanted no light to be wretched by, and even the glimmer of the little lamp on the high mantelpiece might betray them. The fire smouldered, a red speck and no more in the darkness, and the low, square windows hung like faint pictures on the wall. Dick was outside. It was not possible for him to be confined in a room with closed doors. The night was thus darkening over them, and dreariness and stillness falling like a pall, when all the echoes were suddenly roused by the harsh, hoarse bark of Watch baying, with his head up and wide throat extended. Elizabeth, who was standing by Lily, took hold of her suddenly, grasping her trembling frame with two passionate hands. This filled the girl with additional terror; but it was her mother's silent way of strengthening herself, and bracing herself for what was to come. Then Dick appeared, the defender of the house. They could see him take his stand in front of the door, to protect the entrance. Then there came a sound of voices, and Lily sprang to her feet. "He's come back again, mother!" she said.