'Oh, mamma, how you terrified me! I thought you were a man that
had got into the house.' 'Nonsense! The men are all gone away. There are soldiers all
round the place, seeking for their work now it is too late. Miss
Hale is lying on the dining-room sofa badly hurt. I am going for
the doctor.' 'Oh! don't, mamma! they'll murder you.' She clung to her mother's
gown. Mrs. Thornton wrenched it away with no gentle hand.
'Find me some one else to go but that girl must not bleed to
death.' 'Bleed! oh, how horrid! How has she got hurt?' 'I don't know,--I have no time to ask. Go down to her, Fanny, and
do try to make yourself of use. Jane is with her; and I trust it
looks worse than it is. Jane has refused to leave the house,
cowardly woman! And I won't put myself in the way of any more
refusals from my servants, so I am going myself.' 'Oh, dear, dear!' said Fanny, crying, and preparing to go down
rather than be left alone, with the thought of wounds and
bloodshed in the very house.
'Oh, Jane!' said she, creeping into the dining-room, 'what is the
matter? How white she looks! How did she get hurt? Did they throw
stones into the drawing-room?' Margaret did indeed look white and wan, although her senses were
beginning to return to her. But the sickly daze of the swoon made
her still miserably faint. She was conscious of movement around
her, and of refreshment from the eau de Cologne, and a craving
for the bathing to go on without intermission; but when they
stopped to talk, she could no more have opened her eyes, or
spoken to ask for more bathing, than the people who lie in
death-like trance can move, or utter sound, to arrest the awful
preparations for their burial, while they are yet fully aware,
not merely of the actions of those around them, but of the idea
that is the motive for such actions.
Jane paused in her bathing, to reply to Miss Thornton's question.
'She'd have been safe enough, miss, if she'd stayed in the
drawing-room, or come up to us; we were in the front garret, and
could see it all, out of harm's way.' 'Where was she, then?' said Fanny, drawing nearer by slow
degrees, as she became accustomed to the sight of Margaret's pale
face.
'Just before the front door--with master!' said Jane,
significantly.
'With John! with my brother! How did she get there?' 'Nay, miss, that's not for me to say,' answered Jane, with a
slight toss of her head. 'Sarah did'---'Sarah what?' said Fanny, with impatient curiosity.