"Poor fellow! I am afraid he is gone." Stooping, she placed her hand over his heart. "No, he is not dead," she continued.
She stepped into the hall and summoned help; and two women lifted the insensible form to the bed. A physician was called at once, and attempted to resuscitate him. Remaining in a partial stupor all day, toward night Alden began to show signs of returning consciousness. The following day, as he lay upon his bed looking at the kind-hearted woman watching over him, his mind seemed utterly broken down, for his appearance was that of listless disinterestedness. His face was pale, with the exception of a bright-red spot on either cheek.
For three long weary months he kept his room, yet never murmured at fate's decrees. His hostess constantly watched her patient, and never troubled him with questions; her only desire being for his recovery. The physician gave orders that he must be kept perfectly quiet, and all letters withheld from him, unless containing cheering news. No letters came, however, and the good woman wondered; but had she known of the scenes taking place elsewhere, she would have been filled with greater wonder.
[CHAPTER XXVI.]
A DIRTY JOB.
Time dragged slowly, Senator Hamblin being ill at ease.
Beholding his daughter's sorrow, and knowing she could not become the wife of Walter Mannis, he began looking about for some other method to avert the financial disaster threatening him.
Scarcely a moment passed that he did not reproach himself for the great wrong he had done. Overwhelmed with horror, and fully realizing that ambition and selfishness had made him a criminal, he little realized that he was dealing with men deeper and more desperate than himself.