At this point, however, Edwards's pale, high forehead flushed a little.
"I wish I had not told him; but he speaks of Miss Lind being in trouble—and he says God never meant one so beautiful and kind as she to be in trouble—and if her father—"
His face grew grave.
"What is this?"
He turned the leaf suddenly, and glanced at the remainder of the letter.
"Good God! what does the man mean? What has he done?" he exclaimed.
His face was quite pale. The letter dropped from his hands. Then he jumped to his feet.
"Come, Brand—quick—quick!" he said, hurriedly. "You must come with me—"
"But what is the matter?" Brand said, following him in amazement.
"I don't know," said Edwards, almost incoherently. "He may be raving—it may only be drunkenness—but he says he is about to kill himself in place of Lind: the young lady shall not be troubled—she was kind to him, and he is grateful. I am to send her a message."