270 STRAY -AW AYS 



was learned by the questions that followed ; each drove 

 heavily across her intelligence, and passed away into 

 the deep oblivion beyond, though the instinct of 

 respect for her superiors made her gi'ope painfully 

 to find replies. At one point she screamed out " Oh, 

 he's killed ! He's killed ! " and fell into trembhng 

 and moaning; after this there was a jDause, and she 

 believed herself to be at work in Mr. McKenzie's 

 kitchen, she was trying very slowly to lift a saucepan 

 on to the range, but it was terribly heavy, and the 

 effort hurt her side intolerably, and the heat of the 

 fire was extraordinary. 



Some one told her to look at something; she raised 

 her stupefied eyes, and saw among quivering dots and 

 rings of darkness her lover's face. It was pale as the 

 faces of the dead, but the fear of death and not its 

 serenity was in its tallowy whiteness, in its sick and 

 desperate effort at unconcern. She felt her lips 

 make an effort, and knew that she had said his name, 

 whether aloud or whether far back in dreams she could 

 not tell. 



In the stillness that followed, the sound of a pen on 

 paper was audible, then a voice said, very distinctly 

 and slowly : — 



" Is this the man who stabbed you ? " 



Her eyes had not left Devine's face; when the 

 question was asked he lifted his and looked at her, 

 as if his instinct told him that he could through them 

 touch her dimmed perceptions, her dying heart. The 

 blood mounted slowly to her white forehead, and 

 everything around was suddenly very clear and 

 loud and glaring; she saw the strange men by her 

 bed, the well-starched apron and fresh complexion 

 of the girl whom she took to be a servant, she smclled 

 the strong air of morning that stung her nostrils 

 strangely, and brought with it through the open win- 



