Chapter XII: The Gambler's End

Set down, set down that sorrow, 't is all mine.
DECKAR.

Her candle was burnt out; the fire had only a few live embers which went out directly she attempted to revive it. She was numbed with cold; weary with grief; and threw herself upon the bed.

Sleep was impossible. A settled, though vague, conviction that Cecil would not return had taken possession of her mind. She fancied that he must have lost the money, and was now lying concealed for fear of the consequences of his crime.

As the morning fairly broke, she put on her things, and hurried to Captain Heath to ask his assistance and advice. He was at breakfast when she arrived, and her appearance so wan, and yet so strangely supernaturally calm, made him fear the worst.

"Cecil has not returned," she said quietly. "What is to be done?"

The captain at once guessed the truth, and was silent.

"He is ashamed to return," she said. "How are we to learn where he is?"

He remained silent.

"If we were to advertise in the papers," she suggested, "could we not by that means let him know that his ... imprudence ... has been overlooked?"

"Yes, yes. That is the only plan."

"Will you do it?"

"At once; but go you home, he may return every minute."

"You think, then, he will return?" she asked with more emotion in her voice than she had hitherto betrayed.

He trembled slightly as he answered,--

"At any rate ... you had better be there."

She pressed his hand mournfully, and withdrew, leaving Heath amazed and alarmed at the quietude of her manner.

On reaching Hammersmith she saw at some distance before her, a large crowd of people hurrying along. She quietly wondered what it could be; perhaps a fire; perhaps a man led to the station house; perhaps a show which the crowd followed wondering.

She walked on, till she saw the crowd stop at her own house, and then she flew, urged on by some quick sudden fear--she pierced the crowd--she entered the house--in the passage were four men bearing a corpse on a shutter: her heart told her whose corpse it was before her eyes had recognised it.

She saw no more.

When next she became conscious, she found herself in her old bedroom at her father's, her sister Violet seated by her bedside, gazing inquiringly upon her. The fever was subsiding, and her life was saved.