ense is
dangerous?"

"One of the Court servants," said the butler, at once, in response,
"returning from Audleigh Royal, has found the body of Captain Langton
lying in the high-road, where his horse had thrown him, dragged him, and
left him--dead!"

"Heaven be merciful to him!" cried Pauline Darrell. "He has died in his
sin."

But Lady Darrell spoke no words. Perhaps she thought to herself that
Heaven had indeed judged between them. She said nothing--she trembled--a
gasping cry came from her, and she fell face forward on the floor.

They raised her and carried her up stairs. Pauline never left her;
through the long night-watches and the long days she kept her place by
her side, while life and death fought fiercely for her. She would awake
from her stupor at times, only to ask about Aubrey--if it could be true
that he was dead--and then seemed thankful that she could understand no
more.

They did not think at first that she could recover. Afterward Doctor
Helmstone told her that she owed her life to Pauline Darrell's
unchanging love and care.

CHAPTER XLI.

THE WORK OF ATONEMENT.

The little town of Audleigh Royal had never been so excited. It was such
a terrible accident. Captain Langton, the guest of Sir Peter Glynn, so
soon to be master of Darrell Court--a man so handsome, so accomplished,
and so universal a favorite--to be killed in the gloom of an autumn
night, on the high-road! Society was grieved and shocked.

"That beautiful young lady at the Hall, who loved him so dearly, was,"
people whispered to each other, "at death's door--so deep was her
grief."

An inquest was held at the "Darrell Arms;" and all the revelations ever
made as to the cause of Captain Langton's death were made then. The
butler and the groom at Darrell Court swore to having felt some little
alarm at seeing the deceased drink more than half a tumblerful of
brandy. The butler's prophecy that he would never reach home in safety
was repeated. One of the men said that the captain looked pale and
scared, as though he had seen a ghost; another told how madly he had
galloped away; so that no other conclusion could be come to but
this--that he had ridden recklessly, lost all control over the horse,
and had been thrown. There was proof that the animal had dragged him
along the road for some little distance; and it was supposed the fatal
wound had been inflicted when his head was dashed against the mile-stone
close to which he had b