where the two
Postlethwaites lay. I was always at her side in great joy or in great
trouble, though she professed no affection for me and gave me but scanty
thanks."

"During our ride she had been silent and I had not disturbed that
silence. I had much to think of. Should we find him living, or should
we find him dead? If dead, would it sever the relations between us two?
Would I ever ride with her again?"

"When I was not dwelling on this theme, I was thinking of the parting
look she gave her boy; a look which had some strange promise in it. What
had that look meant and why did my flesh creep and my mind hover between
dread and a fearsome curiosity when I recalled it? Alas! There was
reason for all these sensations as I was soon to learn.

"We found the inn seething with terror and the facts worse than had been
represented in the telegram. Her husband was dying. She had come just in
time to witness the end. This they told her before she had taken off
her veil. If they had waited--if I had been given a full glimpse of her
face--But it was hidden, and I could only judge of the nature of her
emotions by the stern way in which she held herself.

"'Take me to him,' was the quiet command, with which she met this
disclosure. Then, before any of them could move:

"'And his brother, Mr. Andrew Postlethwaite? Is he fatally injured too?'

"The reply was unequivocal. The doctors were uncertain which of the two
would pass away first.

"You must remember that at this time I was ignorant of the rich man's
will, and consequently of how the fate of a poor child of whom I had
heard only one mention, hung in the balance at that awful moment. But in
the breathlessness which seized Mrs. Postlethwaite at this sentence of
double death, I realized from my knowledge of her that something more
than grief was at prey upon her impenetrable heart, and shuddered to the
core of my being when she repeated in that voice which was so terrible
because so expressionless:

"'Take me to them.'"

They were lying in one room, her husband nearest the door, the other
in a small alcove some ten feet away. Both were unconscious; both were
surrounded by groups of frightened attendants who fell back as she
approached. A doctor stood at the bed-head of her husband, but as her
eye met his he stepped aside with a shake of the head and left the place
empty for her.

"The action was significant. I saw that she understood what it meant,
and with constricted