Leonie laid her hand upon the bowed head gently.
"Think what you are doing, Liz," she said, almost tenderly. "The child is very ill—dying, perhaps, and you are exciting him like this. For his sake, calm yourself, Liz, and listen to me."
"Calm!" echoed the poor woman, as though that were the only word that she had heard. "How can I be calm when I have killed my husband and my child is dying? Oh, girl, do you know what that means to me? Have you any idea what it means to be all alone in the world with a weight like that upon your conscience?"
"Hush!" cried Leonie, earnestly. "You have not killed Ben. You have only stunned him, and if he returns to consciousness to find us still here, I would not give much for any of our lives. Do you hear me, Liz? Do you not see the necessity of our taking Dick away before he returns to life?"
For the first time the woman seemed to be aroused.
She lifted herself and looked wildly about her.
"You are right!" she exclaimed hoarsely. "He may not be dead—child, it would be better if I had killed him, for when he awakens he will kill us all. What shall we do? Help me to think! My brain seems to be on fire!"
"Is there no one whom you know to whom we could go for protection?"
"With him?" cried Liz, pointing to the child. "You must be mad. Do you think any one is going to risk a disease like that for his sake or mine? There is nothing that we can do, but you can go. There is no reason that you should die because we must."