While, in the dark, the hands were still groping for her, she eluded
them, and succeeded in carrying out Harriet's manoeuvre so far that
a quick bright flame leapt forth, lighting up the whole room, and
revealing two--yes, two! But it did not die away! In her haste, and in
the darkness, she had poured the whole contents of the bottle on the
phosphoric cotton, and dropped both without knowing it on a chintz
curtain. A fresh evening breeze was blowing in from the window, open
behind the shutters, and in one second the curtain was a flaming, waving
sheet. Some one sprang up to tear it down, leaping on a table in the
window. The table overbalanced, the heavy iron curtain-rod came out
suddenly, and there was a fall, the flaming mass covering the fallen!
The glare shone on a strange white face and head as well as on Jumbo's
black one, and with a trampling and crushing the fire died down,
quenched as suddenly as it began, and all was obscurity again.

"Nephew, dear boy, speak," exclaimed Mr. Belamour; and as there was no
answer, "Open the shutters, Jumbo. For Heaven's sake let us see!"

"Oh! what have I done?" cried poor Aurelia, in horror and misery,
dropping by him on the ground, while the opened shutters admitted the
twilight of a May evening, with a full moon, disclosing a strange scene.
A youth in a livery riding coat lay senseless on the ground, partly
covered by the black fragments of the curtain, the iron rod clenched in
one hand, the other arm doubled under him. A face absolutely white, with
long snowy beard and hair hung over him, and an equally white pair of
hands tried to lift the head. Jumbo had in a second sprung down, removed
the fallen table, and come to his masters help. "Struck head with this,"
he said, as he tried to unclasp the fingers from the bar, and pointed to
a grazed blow close to the temple.

"We must lay him on my bed," said Mr. Belamour. Then, seeing the
girl's horror-stricken countenance, "Ah, child, would that you had been
patient; but it was overtasking you! Call Aylward, I beg of you.
Tell her he is here, badly hurt. What, you do not know him," as her
bewildered eyes and half-opened lips implied the question she could not
utter, "you do not know him? Sir Amyas--my nephew--your true husband!"

"Oh! and I have killed him!" she cried, with clasped hands.

"Hush, child, no, with God's mercy! Only call the woman and bring a
light."

She rushed away, and appeared, a pale terrified figure, with