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But the loud voices of the disputants had attracted Edward to the spot, and there he stood on D'Effernay's return; and by his side a venerable old man, who carried a large bunch of keys in his hand. "In heaven's name, what has happened?" cried Wensleben. "What are you about to do?" interposed the rector, in a tone of authority, though his countenance was expressive of horror.
Edward fell asleep; and the same dream, with the same circumstances, recurred, only with the full consciousness that the sick man was Ferdinand. Edward felt overpowered, a species of horror took possession of his mind, as he found himself now in regular communication with the beings of the invisible world. The weather favored D'Effernay's projects. The whole day was passed in the open air.
A momentary cloud gathered on D'Effernay's brow, yet it seemed no more than his usual expression of vexation at any delay or hindrance; and he was so anxious to propitiate his rich visitor, who appeared likely to take the estate off his hands, that he complied with all possible courtesy. The coachman was directed to turn down a by-road, and a very bad one it was.
Hurried footsteps sounded in the anteroom; the door was thrown open. Edward looked up, and saw D'Effernay staring at him, and round the room, in an angry, restless manner. Edward could not but think there was something almost unearthly in those dark looks and that towering form. "Where is my wife?" was D'Effernay's first question. "She is gone to fulfill some household duty," replied the other.
The hope that we had cherished of D'Effernay's possible indifference to me, of the change which time might have wrought in his attachment, now seemed idle and absurd. His love was indeed impassioned. He embraced me in a manner that made me shrink from him, and altogether his deportment toward me was a strange contrast to the gentle, tender, refined affection of our dear friend.
His mind was a prey to conflicting doubts; detestation for the culprit, and grief for the victim, pointed out one line of conduct, while the difficulty of proving D'Effernay's guilt, and still more, pity and consideration for Emily, determined him at length to let the matter rest, and to leave the murderer, if such he really were, to the retribution which his own conscience and the justice of God would award him.
The three companions alighted from the carriage, which they left at the bottom of the hill, and walked up together in the direction of the rectory. Edward knocked at the door and was admitted, while the two others sat on a bench outside. He had promised to return speedily, but to D'Effernay's restless spirit, one-quarter of an hour appeared interminable.
Emily only appeared at meals, and in the evening when they played at cards. Both she and Edward avoided, as if by mutual consent, every word, every look that could awaken the slightest suspicion or jealous feeling in D'Effernay's mind. She thanked him in her heart for this forbearance, but her thoughts were in another world; she took little heed of what passed around her.
Edward, we believe, never alluded to D'Effernay's death, and all the awful circumstances attending it, but twice once, when, with every necessary detail, he and the captain gave their evidence to the legal authorities; and once, with as few details as possible, when he had an interview with the widow of the murderer, the beloved of the victim.
He wishes to sell his estates." "Really," inquired the captain, "and where is he going?" "I have no idea," replied the other; "but he is selling everything off. One manor is already disposed of, and there have been people already in negotiation for the place where he resides." The conversation now turned on the value of D'Effernay's property, and of land in general, &c.
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