Tried for Her Life Part 38

Beatrix Pendleton waited and watched for some time, for so long a time, at last, that she suspected Sybil had fallen asleep. She went and looked at her attentively, and then called her by name, and touched her, and so finally discovered that she had, in the midst of her prayers, relapsed into that fearful lethargy that was undermining her reason.

"Come, Sybil, dear, get into bed," said Beatrix, taking her hand and lifting her up.

"Yes," said the docile creature, and immediately did as her friend directed her.

There was no surer or sadder symptoms in Sybil's insanity, than the perfect docility of her who had once been so difficult to manage.

She went quietly to bed.

Beatrix prepared to follow her.

But Miss Pendleton was faint from long fasting. Neither she nor Sybil had tasted anything since their luncheon at two o'clock that day, when the court had taken a recess. They had reached the prison sometime after supper had been served; and in the awful crisis of Sybil's fate, no one had thought of food. Sybil did not seem to require it; she lay in a quiet lethargy, like death. But Beatrix was half-famished when she went to bed.

Her hunger, however, was soon forgotten in the great anxiety of her mind; and the sharpest point of it was this:

What effect would the night's repose have on Sybil's state? Would it bring back her lost senses, and with them the consciousness of her awful condition? Beatrix prayed that it might not--prayed that the shield of insanity might still cover her from the surrounding and impending horrors of her position.

At length both the friends fell asleep, and slept until nearly nine o'clock the next morning.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE MERCIFUL INSANITY.

Every sense Had been o'erstrung by pangs intense, And each frail fibre of her brain, (As bowstrings when, relaxed by rain, The erring arrow launch aside,) Sent forth her thoughts all wild and wide.--BYRON.

They were awakened by the drawing of bolts and turning of locks outside their door, and by the voice of the warden, saying:

"Go in, Kitty, and see if they are up. I will stay outside and guard the door."

And then the same middle-aged widow whom they had seen on the previous night entered the room.

Beatrix being fully awakened, turned anxiously to look at her friend.

Sybil was lying also wide awake, but very quiet.

"What sort of a place is this, Beatrix?" she inquired, and then immediately relapsed into lethargy, as if she had forgotten her question.

"Thank Heaven!" fervently exclaimed Sybil's friend, "she is still shielded."

"Which of you two ladies is in for it?" inquired the warden's daughter, coming forward.

"We are both 'in for it,'" answered Beatrix, a little scornfully, "and one of us is about as guilty as the other."

"Oh, I didn't know that," muttered the woman, who took the lady's words in good faith. "I didn't know there was more than one concerned; but what I meant to ask was, which is Mrs. Berners? Because there is a trunk come for her, which father thinks it contains clothes and other necessaries that she may need at once."

"Very likely. Let your father push it through the door, and I will see to its contents. And oh! for Heaven's sake, my good woman, let us have some breakfast as soon as possible," entreated Miss Pendleton.

The woman promised to comply with her request, and left the room.

The trunk was pushed in, and the door closed, locked, and bolted again.

Beatrix went to examine the consignment. There was a letter directed to Mrs. Berners, unsealed and tied to the handle, together with the key of the trunk.

Beatrix took both off and carried them to her friend, saying "Here is the key of a box that has come for you, and here is a letter, dear Sybil, from your husband, I suppose; will you read it?"

Sybil opened the letter, gazed at it with dreamy eyes, and followed the lines with her glances, but without taking in their meaning.

Sad enough this would have seemed to Miss Pendleton at any other time; but now, every evidence of her friend's failing mind was welcome to her, and to all who loved the unhappy young wife.

"Shall I read it for you, dear?" inquired Beatrix, tenderly, taking the letter from her hand.

"Yes, read it," answered Sybil, rousing herself, for an instant, to some little interest in the matter, and then sinking back into indifference.

Beatrix read aloud. The letter was only an earnestly affectionate greeting from the husband to the wife, telling her that he had sent her a box of needful articles, and that he himself would come to see her as soon as the doors should be opened to visitors. It was a cautiously written letter, so worded as to humor her hallucination, in case she should still imagine herself to be in a country house instead of the county prison.

As Beatrix ended each sentence, she looked around to see if Sybil was listening.

Ah! no; after the first few lines had been read, her attention wandered, and at the end of the note she astonished the reader, by saying:

"I am very thirsty, Beatrix."

"Then, dear, let me help you to rise and dress; and you shall have some tea. They are rough people we are stopping with, so I requested them to bring our breakfast up here," said Miss Pendleton, artfully, and laying aside the note.

Sybil submitted to the services of her friend. And then for the first time Beatrix noticed that in this victim's case physical weakness was now added to mental infirmity. Body and mind were both failing together.

"Well, so best," thought Sybil's true friend.

By the time they were both dressed, there was another sound of turning locks and drawing bolts, and then the warden's daughter brought in the tray of breakfast, while the warden himself stood outside on guard.

Notwithstanding the awful situation, both these young women were able to take a little breakfast--poor Sybil because she was quite insensible of the horrors of her position, and Miss Pendleton because, with all her sorrowful sympathy for her companion, she had the appet.i.te of a healthy young woman who had been fasting some eighteen hours.

Soon after the breakfast was over and the service cleared away, Mr.

Berners came. Again bolts and bars were drawn, and the husband was ushered in by the warden to see his wife.

Lyon Berners shook hands with Beatrix Pendleton, and then pa.s.sed at once to Sybil, who sat in a state of reverie on the side of her bed.

"You have come for me at last, Lyon?" she said. "The people here are very kind, but I am very glad you have come, for I want to go home."

"Dear Sybil," he replied, embracing her, and humoring her delusion. "You are not well enough to go home yet; you must stay here a little longer."

"Yes," she said, looking up for a moment, and then relapsing into silence and reverie.

Mr. Berners exchanged a glance with Miss Pendleton.

At the same moment the warden put his head in at the door, and beckoned Mr. Berners to come out into the pa.s.sage.