She did not reply, but, with a deep-drawn sigh, as if a great weight had been lifted from her mind, she leaned heavily upon my arm and left the chamber of death.
Boris followed.
His thirst for vengeance had been satisfied.
Chapter Thirty Six.
Conclusion.
A sultry autumn day had passed; the freshening twilight had faded, and the moon and evening star were in the sky as Vera and I sat together on the terrace at Elveham. Already the lights of the village began to twinkle in the distance; the tops of the trees in the Dene were gleaming in the moonlight like a silver sea, a night bird warbled sweetly, and the little brook babbled on with lulling music.
My heart drank in the tranquillity of the scene, as in the listlessness of after dinner I smoked the sleep-inviting cigar.
A month had elapsed since the tragic dénouement of the strange drama, but Vera’s nerves had been so unstrung that I had scarcely referred to the terrible occurrence since.