“They had moved him very speedily from Bolinski’s to the house of one of their confederates. Then they took him down to Horsham, where Stent had a house. He came to me one day and said the affairs in which they were interested were maturing slowly. He had hoped to release Mr Monkton very quickly, but owing to the delay it was absolutely necessary they should keep him in custody until the coup came off. They kept him in a secret room there—what is called the priest’s room. A woman they trusted had been obliged to go abroad. Would I take her place? He said it would only be for a short time.”
“And you went?” cried Sheila, with a withering glance.
The woman’s voice was almost inaudible, as she answered with bowed head: “Yes, I went, but I swear that when I did so I did not know what was really meditated.”
They looked at her in horror, and Wingate repeated the words, “what was really meditated.”
“Yes,” she said, almost in a whisper. “It was a refined cruelty, the invention of a cunning and malignant mind. Their object was to break down his reason, to reduce him to a condition worse than that of death itself, and then to restore him to his home and child, shattered in health, mind and reputation.”
Chapter Thirty.
The Mystery Solved.
At those dreadful words, spoken in a low, vibrating voice, a shudder ran through the listeners. Sheila laid her head upon her father’s shoulder, and sobbed unrestrainedly. Wingate uttered a cry of horror.