"If you can get this posted at a place some miles away," he whispered,
exhausted by the effort of writing--"at Shottsford or Port-Bredy, or
still better, Budmouth--it will divert all suspicion from this house as
the place of my refuge."
"I will drive to one or other of the places myself--anything to keep it
unknown," she murmured, her voice weighted with vague foreboding, now
that the excitement of helping him had passed away.
Fitzpiers told her that there was yet one thing more to be done. "In
creeping over the fence on to the lawn," he said, "I made the rail
bloody, and it shows rather much on the white paint--I could see it in
the dark. At all hazards it should be washed off. Could you do that
also, Felice?"
What will not women do on such devoted occasions? weary as she was she
went all the way down the rambling staircases to the ground-floor,
then to search for a lantern, which she lighted and hid under her
cloak; then for a wet sponge, and next went forth into the night. The
white railing stared out in the darkness at her approach, and a ray
from the enshrouded lantern fell upon the blood--just where he had told
her it would be found. She shuddered. It was almost too much to bear
in one day--but with a shaking hand she sponged the rail clean, and
returned to the house.
The time occupied by these several proceedings was not much less than
two hours. When all was done, and she had smoothed his extemporized
bed, and placed everything within his reach that she could think of,
she took her leave of him, and locked him in.