Cruel As The Grave - Page 137/237

Can such things be,

And overcome us like a summer cloud

Without our special wonder?--Shakespeare.

"Pendleton! oh! Heaven, Pendleton! What news?" exclaimed Lyon Berners,

starting up to greet him.

"Good heaven! Berners! How is this? Another--a servant taken into your

confidence, and trusted with the secret of your retreat!" cried Captain

Pendleton in dismay.

"He is trustworthy! I will vouch for his fidelity! But oh! Pendleton!

What news? what news?" exclaimed Lyon Berners in an agony of impatience.

"The worst that you can anticipate!" cried Captain Pendleton in a voice

full of sorrow.

"Oh! my unhappy wife! The coroner's jury have found their verdict then?"

groaned Lyon.

Captain Pendleton bowed his head. He was unable to reply in words.

"And that verdict is--Oh! speak I let me hear the worst!--that verdict

is--"

"Wilful Murder!" muttered Pendleton in a hoarse and choking voice.

"Against--against--whom?" gasped Lyon Berners white as death.

"Oh Heaven! You know! Do not ask me to sully her name with the words!"

cried Captain Pendleton, utterly overcome by his emotions.

"Oh, my unhappy wife! Oh, my lost Sybil!" exclaimed Lyon Berners,

reeling under the blow, half-expected though it might have been.

There was silence for a few minutes. Pendleton was the first to recover

himself. He went up to his friend, touched him on the shoulder, and

said: "Berners, rouse yourself; the position requires the exertion of your

utmost powers of mind and body. Calm yourself, and collect all your

faculties. Come now let us sit down here and talk over the situation."

Lyon permitted the captain to draw him away to a little distance, where

they both sat down side by side, on a fallen tombstone.

"In the first place, how is your wife, and how does she sustain herself

under this overwhelming disaster?" inquired Captain Pendleton, forcing

himself to speak composedly.

"I do not think my dear innocent Sybil was able fully to appreciate the

danger of her position, even as she stood before the rendering of that

false and fatal verdict, she was so strong in her sense of innocence.

She seemed to suffer most from the lesser evils involved in her exile

from home."

"Where is she, then?"

"Sleeping heavily in the church there; sleeping very heavily, from the

united effects of mental and bodily fatigue and excitement."

"Heaven grant that she may sleep long and well. And now, Berners, to our

plans. You must know that I kept a horse saddled and tied in the woods

down by the river, and as soon as that lying verdict was rendered, I

hurried off, leaped into my saddle and galloped here. I forded the

river, and have left my horse just below here, at the entrance of this

thicket. I must soon mount and away again on your service."