It meant that Sir Joseph's life still
stood between the man who had compassed his death and the money which
the man was resolved to have. It meant that Richard Turlington was
driven to bay, and that the horror and the peril of the night were not
at an end yet.)
Natalie and her aunt looked at each other across the bed on which Sir
Joseph lay. He had fallen into a kind of doze; no enlightenment could
come to them from _him_. They could only ask each other, with beating
hearts and baffled minds, what Richard's conduct meant--they could only
feel instinctively that some dreadful discovery was hanging over them.
The aunt was the calmer of the two--there was no secret weighing heavily
on _her_ conscience. _She_ could feel the consolations of religion. "Our
dear one is spared to us, my love," said the old lady, gently. "God has
been good to us. We are in his hands. If we know that, we know enough."
As she spoke there was a loud ring at the doorbell. The women-servants
crowded into the bedroom in alarm. Strong in numbers, and encouraged by
Natalie--who roused herself and led the way--they confronted the risk
of opening the window and of venturing out on the balcony which extended
along that side of the house.
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