Beyond this point he had never looked. In all his consideration
of the circumstances relating to the Haygarthian estate, he had never
thought of what might happen in the event of Charlotte's decease.
"It is a diabolical mystery," he said to himself. "There can be no
motive--_none_. To destroy Thomas Halliday was to clear his way to
fortune; to destroy Charlotte is to destroy his chance of fortune."
And then he remembered the dark speeches of George Sheldon.
"My God! and this was what he meant, as plainly as he dared tell me! He
did tell me that his brother was an unutterable scoundrel; and I turned a
deaf ear to his warning, because it suited my own interest to believe
that villain. For her dear sake I believed him. I would have believed in
Beelzebub, if he had promised me her dear hand. And I let myself be duped
by the lying promise, and left my darling in the power of Beelzebub!"
Thoughts followed each other swift as lightning through his overwrought
brain. It seemed but a moment that he had been sitting with his
clenched hands pressed against his forehead, when he turned suddenly
upon the surgeon.
"For God's sake, help me, guide me!" he said. "You have struck a blow
that has numbed my senses. What am I to do? My future wife is in that
man's keeping--dying, as I believe. How am I to save her?"
"I cannot tell you. You may take the cleverest man in London to see her;
but it is a question if that man will perceive the danger so clearly as
to take prompt measures.
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