Mechanically she obeyed; mechanically she looked down where his finger was pointing.  It was the convict Monbrun—­there, just visible under the bright light of the candle, were the fatal letters “T.  F.” branded on the villain’s shoulder!

Though she could neither move nor speak, the horror of this discovery did not deprive her of her consciousness.  She saw the agent softly draw up the bed-clothes again into their proper position, replace the scissors on the toilet-table, and take from it a bottle of smelling-salts.  She felt him removing her from the bedroom, and helping her quickly downstairs, giving her the salts to smell to by the way.  When they were alone again, he said, with the first appearance of agitation that he had yet exhibited, “Now, madam, for God’s sake, collect all your courage, and be guided by me.  You and your sister had better leave the house immediately.  Have you any relatives in the neighborhood with whom you could take refuge?” They had none.  “What is the name of the nearest town where you could get good accommodation for the night?” Harleybrook (he wrote the name down on his tablets).  “How far off is it?” Twelve miles.  “You had better have the carriage out at once, to go there with as little delay as possible, leaving me to pass the night here.  I will communicate with you to-morrow at the principal hotel.  Can you compose yourself sufficiently to be able to tell the head servant, if I ring for him, that he is to obey my orders till further notice?” The servant was summoned, and received his instructions, the agent going out with him to see that the carriage was got ready quietly and quickly.  Miss Welwyn went upstairs to her sister.

How the fearful news was first broken to Rosamond, I cannot relate to you.  Miss Welwyn has never confided to me, has never confided to anybody, what happened at the interview between her sister and herself that night.  I can tell you nothing of the shock they both suffered, except that the younger and the weaker died under it; that the elder and the stronger has never recovered from it, and never will.

They went away the same night, with one attendant, to Harleybrook, as the agent had advised.  Before daybreak Rosamond was seized with the pains of premature labor.  She died three days after, unconscious of the horror of her situation, wandering in her mind about past times, and singing old tunes that Ida had taught her as she lay in her sister’s arms.

The child was born alive, and lives still.  You saw her at the window as we came in at the back way to the Grange.  I surprised you, I dare say, by asking you not to speak of her to Miss Welwyn.  Perhaps you noticed something vacant in the little girl’s expression.  I am sorry to say that her mind is more vacant still.  If “idiot” did not sound like a mocking word, however tenderly and pityingly one may wish to utter it, I should tell you that the poor thing had been an idiot from her birth.