“Is all well,—is all well, Roger, with your mistress? Speak, man,—speak!”
The servant hesitated, and then replied, “Yes, master!”
“Kind, dear Emily!” exclaimed Morden, “she has sent you to search for me. Nay, Roger, I will outstrip you; and I can delay no longer.—How anxious she will be! Death! no—no—it was but a horrible dream! Yet, Roger,—am I agitated? would my looks frighten Emily? Frighten—oh! no. Not a moment is to be lost,” and he darted forward, and soon, all breathless, reached his abode. He trode up the lawn with as heavy a pace as possible, in order that suspense might be ended, and that she might know of his return, before he appeared. A dim light was in the hall when he entered.
The faithful servant, when he arrived, heard no noise, and although he felt keenly for the woes of his master, did not venture into the hall before morning,—and there was his master lying, with his arms around his wife. He spoke to him;—but he spoke to the dead!
A distant relation laid claim to the dwelling, with the land attached to it; but from the awful scenes in the former, which we have related, it became uninhabited, and was soon an entire ruin; finally even without a wreck.