Anne Hereford. Mrs. Henry Wood

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      "Had he his gun with him--Edwin Barley?"

      "Yes, he was carrying it."

      She dropped my arm, and sat quite still, shrinking as if some blow had struck her. Two or three minutes passed before she spoke again.

      "Go on, Anne. What next? Tell me all that passed, for I suppose you heard." And I related what I knew, word for word.

      "You have not told me all, Anne."

      "Yes, I have."

      "Did not Philip King say that Mr. Heneage had raised his gun, aimed at him, and fired?--that he saw him do it?"

      "He did not, aunt. He only said what I have told you."

      "Lie the first!" she exclaimed, lifting her hand and letting it fall passionately. "Then you never saw Mr. Heneage?"

      "I saw him later." And I went on to tell her of the meeting him through my taking the wrong turning. I told her all: how he looked like one in mortal fright; what he said; and of my asking him whether he had done it.

      "Well?" she feverishly interrupted. "Well?"

      "He quite denied it," I answered, repeating to her exactly the words Mr. Heneage had said.

      "You say he looked scared--confused?"

      "Yes, very much so."

      "And Mr. Edwin Barley--did he?"

      "Not at all. He looked just as he always looks. He seemed to be surprised, and very sorry; his voice, when he spoke to Philip King, was kinder than I ever heard it."

      Another pause. She seemed to be thinking.

      "I can hardly understand where it was you saw George Heneage, Anne: you must show me, to-morrow. Was it on the same side from which the shot came?"

      "Yes; I think near to the place. Or how could he have heard Mr. Barley speak to me?"

      "How long had you been in the wood when the shot was fired?"

      "About ten minutes or a quarter of an hour."

      "Little girls compute time differently from grown people, Anne. A few minutes might seem like a quarter of an hour to you."

      "Mamma taught me how differently time appears to pass, according to what we may be doing, Aunt Selina. That when we are pleasantly occupied, it seems to fly; and when we are impatient for it to go on, or in any suspense or fear, it does not seem to move. I think I have learnt to be pretty exact, and I do believe that I was in the wood nearly a quarter of an hour. I was running about for some time, looking for Mr. Heneage, as you told me, before I found I had lost myself. And then I was some minutes getting over the fright. I had said my prayers, and----"

      "You had--WHAT?"

      "I was much alarmed; I thought I might have to stay in the wood until morning, and I could only pray to God to protect me: I knew that harm would not come to me then. It must have been a quarter of an hour in all: so you see Mr. Heneage did not do it in the heat of passion, in running after him: he must have done it deliberately."

      "I don't care," she repeated to herself, in a sort of defiant voice; "I know George Heneage did not wilfully shoot Philip King. If he did do it, it was an accident; but I don't believe he did."

      "If he did not, why did he hide in the wood, and look as if he had done something wrong, Selina? Why did he not go boldly up, and see what was amiss with Philip King, as Mr. Edwin Barley did?"

      "There is no accounting for what people do in these moments of confusion and terror: some act in one way, some in another," she said, slowly. "Anne, I don't like to speak out openly to you--what I fear and what I don't fear. It was imperative upon George Heneage to hasten home--and he may not have believed that Philip King was really dead."

      "But, Selina----"

      "Go! go! lie down there," she said, drawing me to the distant sofa, and pushing me on it, with the pillow over my head. "You are asleep, mind! He might think I had been tutoring you."

      So sudden and unexpected was the movement, I could only obey, and lie still. Selina unbolted the door, and was back in her seat before Mr. Edwin Barley entered the room.

      "Are you coming down to dinner, Selina?"

      "Dinner! It is well for you that you can eat it," was her answer. "You must dine without me to-day--those who dine at all. Now, don't disturb that sleeping child, Mr. Barley! I was just going to send her to bed."

      "It might do you more good to eat dinner than to roam about in a night-fog," was Mr. Edwin Barley's rejoinder. "It is rather curious you should choose such a night as this to be out, half-naked."

      "Not curious," she said, coldly: "very natural."

      "Very! Especially that you should be tearing up and down the wood paths, like a mad woman. Others saw you as well as myself, and are speaking of it."

      "Let them speak."

      "But for what purpose were you there?"

      "I was looking for George Heneage. There! you may make the most of it."

      "Did you find him?"

      "No. I wish I had: I wish I had. I should have learnt from him the truth of this night's business; for the truth, as I believe, has not come to light yet."

      "What do you suppose to be the truth?" he returned, in a tone of surprise; whether natural, or assumed, who could say?

      "No matter--no matter now: it is something that I scarcely dare to glance at. Better, even, that Heneage had done it, than--than--what I am thinking of. My head is confused to-night," she broke off; "my mind unhinged--hardly sane. You had better leave me, Mr. Barley."

      "You had better come and eat a bit of dinner," he said, roughly, but not unkindly. "None of us can touch much, I daresay, but we are going to sit down. William is staying, and so is Martin. Won't you come and try to take a bit? Or shall I send you something up?"

      "It would be of no use."

      Mr. Edwin Barley looked at her: she was shivering outwardly and inwardly. I could just see out under the corner of the cushion.

      "You have caught a violent cold, Selina. How could you think of going out?"

      "I will tell you," she added, in a more conciliating spirit. "I went out because you went. To prevent any encounter between you and George Heneage,--I mean any violence. After that, I stayed looking for him."

      "You need not have feared violence from me. I should have handed him over to the police, nothing more."

      "There was a mocking sound in his voice as he spoke. Selina sat down and put her feet on the fender.

      "I hate to dine without somebody at the table's head," Mr. Edwin Barley said, turning to the door. "If you will not come, I shall ask Charlotte Delves to sit down."

      "It СКАЧАТЬ