“Ay,” said the old woman, falling on her knees by the bed and sobbing bitterly, “the trance of death. Ah, my dear, my poor lonely girl, that this should be the end of it! She has died of fright,” said the old woman, pointing to the eyes, which even yet retained their horror. “She has seen something devilish.”
Tabitha's gaze fell. “She has always suffered with her heart,” she muttered; “the night has frightened her; it frightened me.”
She stood upright by the foot of the bed as Martha drew the sheet over the face of the dead woman.
“First Ursula, then Eunice,” said Tabitha, drawing a deep breath. “I can't stay here. I'll dress and wait for the morning.”
She left the room as she spoke, and with bent head proceeded to her own. Martha remained by the bedside, and gently closing the staring eyes, fell on her knees, and prayed long and earnestly for the departed soul. Overcome with grief and fear she remained with bowed head until a sudden sharp cry from Tabitha brought her to her feet.
“Well,” said the old woman, going to the door.
“Where are you?” cried Tabitha, somewhat reassured by her voice.
“In Miss Eunice's bedroom. Do you want anything?”
“Come down at once. Quick! I am unwell.”
Her voice rose suddenly to a scream. “Quick! For God's sake! Quick, or I shall go mad. There is some strange woman in the house.”