Part 30 (2/2)

On the rug before the flickering fire the stricken wife crouched, wringing her hands, which looked ghostly in their whiteness. A candle burning dimly on a table increased the light of the fire; and by their united rays he saw, with a thrill of horror, that her loosened hair, which covered her bowed face and shoulders, was, in truth, silver white; and its contrast with her black wrapper made the whole scene, linked as it was with a dead man's dream, so ghostly that he shuddered, and was inclined to believe it to be the creation of his overwrought senses. In self-distrust he looked around. Other objects were clear in the faint moonlight. He was perfectly conscious of the dull ache of his wound. Had the phantom crouched before the fire vanished? No; but now the silver hair was thrown back, and Grace Hilland's white, agonized face was lifted heavenward. Oh, how white it was!

She slowly took a dark-colored vial from her bosom.

Thrilled with unspeakable horror, ”Grace!” he shouted, and by a desperate effort threw the blind upward and off from its hinges, and it fell with a crash on the veranda. Springing into the apartment, he had not reached her side before the door opened, and his aunt's frightened face appeared.

”Great G.o.d! what does this mean, Alford?”

”What _does_ it mean, indeed!” he echoed in agonized tones, as he knelt beside Grace, who had fallen on the floor utterly unconscious. ”Bring the candle here,” he added hoa.r.s.ely.

She mechanically obeyed and seemed almost paralyzed. After a moment's search he s.n.a.t.c.hed up something and cried: ”She's safe, she's safe! The cork is not removed.” Then he thrust the vial into his pocket, and lifted Grace gently on the lounge, saying meanwhile: ”She has only fainted; surely 'tis no more. Oh, as you value my life and hers, act.

You should know what to do. I will send the coachman for a physician instantly, and will come when you need me.”

Rus.h.i.+ng to the man's room, he dragged him from his bed, shook him awake, and gave him instructions and offers of reward that stirred the fellow's blood as it had never been stirred before; and yet when he reached the stable he found that Graham had broken the lock and had a horse saddled and ready.

”Now ride,” he was commanded, ”as if the devil you believe in was after you.”

Then Graham rushed back into the house, for he was almost beside himself. But when he heard the poor old major calling piteously, and asking what was the matter, he was taught his need of self-control.

Going up to the veteran's room, he soothed him by saying that he had returned late in the night in response to his aunt's telegram, and that he had found Grace fainting on the floor, that Mrs. Mayburn and the servants were with her, and that a physician had been sent for.

”Oh, Graham, Graham,” moaned the old man, ”I fear my peerless girl is losing her mind, she has acted so strangely of late. It's time you came. It's time something was done, or the worst may happen.”

With an almost overwhelming sense of horror, Graham remembered how nearly the worst had happened, but he only said: ”Let us hope the worst has pa.s.sed. I will bring you word from Mrs. Mayburn from time to time.”

His terrible anxiety was only partially relieved, for his aunt said that Grace's swoon was obstinate, and would not yield to the remedies she was using. ”Come in,” she cried. ”This is no time for ceremony.

Take brandy and chafe her wrists.”

What a mortal chill her cold hands gave him! It was worse than when Hilland's hands were cold in his.

”Oh, aunt, she will live?”

”Certainly,” was the brusque reply. ”A fainting turn is nothing. Come, you are cool in a battle: be cool now. It won't do for us all to lose our wits, although Heaven knows there's cause enough.”

”How white her face and neck are!”--for Mrs. Mayburn had opened her wrapper at the throat, that she might breathe more easily--”just as Hilland saw her in his dream.”

”Have done with your dreams, and omens, and all your weird nonsense.

It's time for a little more _common_-sense. Rub her wrists gently but strongly; and if she shows signs of consciousness, disappear.”

At last she said hastily, ”Go”

Listening at the door, he heard Grace ask, a few moments later, in a faint voice, ”What has happened?'”

”You only fainted, deary.”

”Why--why--I'm in the library.”

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