Hervey’s great eyes lowered before that heartful look. His face was a study in hopelessness. From his expression of deep sorrow Iredale might have been his own brother who was accused of murder.
“I’m afraid there is no hope of what you say, Prue. Leslie was conscious; he knew what he was saying. Iredale had every reason for shooting him. The circumstantial evidence is damning. The most sceptical jury would be convinced.”
“O God! O God! And he has asked me to be 262 his wife.” Prudence covered her face with her hands, and her body heaved with great, passionate sobs.
Hervey started at the words. His face lit up with a wicked joy. This was better than he had expected. George should pay dearly for his refusal to buy his silence.
“You say he dared to propose to you with that foul crime upon his soul? He is a worse villain than I had believed. By heavens, he shall swing for his crime! I had hoped that my news had come in time to save you this cruel wrong. The scum! The foul, black-hearted scum!”
Hervey’s rage was melodramatic. But the girl, even in the depths of her misery and distraught feelings, was impressed. Her heart cried out for her lover, and proclaimed his innocence in terms which would not be silenced. His image rose before her mind’s eye, and she looked upon that kindly, strong face, the vigorous bearing of that manly figure, and the story she had just listened to became dwarfed as her faith in him rose superior to the evidence of her senses. It could not be. Her quivering lips struggled to frame the words she longed to utter, but no sound came. Hervey’s words, his attitude, his appearance of deep, honest sorrow for his sister paralyzed her faculties and hope died down in her heart.
The man moved forward to her side, and touched her gently on the shoulders.
“Come, Prue, we had best go back to the house. I can do no work to-day. You, too, need quiet for reflection. The heartless villain!” And he harped upon the information his sister had provided him with.
Prudence allowed herself to be led. She did not care whither she went or what happened. She was incapable of reasoning. She was stunned by the cruel blow that had fallen. Later she would recover herself, for all such blows are but passing; in waking moments mind and reason cannot long remain inert and sanity obtain. For the present she was a mere automaton.