For Womans Love | Page 9

restore her to her senses. Corona recovered
her faculties only to fall into the most violent paroxysms of anguish and
despair.
From her ravings and self-reproaches Mrs. Rockharrt gathered that the
unfortunate girl had heard, or in some way learned, some fatal news.
She sent all the servants out of the room, locked the door, administered

a sedative to her child, and then, when the latter was somewhat calmer,
questioned her as to the cause of her distress.
"I have nothing to tell--nothing, nothing to tell! But take me away from
this place! Take me home to Rockhold, where I may be alone!"
"I will do all I can to comfort you, my dear," said Mrs. Rockharrt. "I
will speak to Mr. Rockharrt when he comes in."
No one but the snubbed, brow-beaten and humiliated wife knew all that
she engaged to suffer when she promised to speak to her lord and
master.
Corona, soothed by the sedative that had been given her, and consoled
by the love and sympathy that had been lavished upon her, grew more
composed, and finally fell into a deep sleep from which she awoke
refreshed. But a rumor went through the house that the young lady had
got news which she did not choose to communicate.
Later in the day Mrs. Rockharrt deferentially proposed to the domestic
despot that they should return to Rockhold, as the weather was so
oppressive and the town house was so obnoxious to dear Corona, which
was quite natural under the trying circumstances.
Aaron Rockharrt glared at her until she cowered, and then he told her
that he should direct the movements of his family as he thought proper,
and that any suggestions from her or from his granddaughter were both
unnecessary and impertinent.
So they both had to bend under the iron will of Aaron Rockharrt.
At length, however, something happened to relieve them.
Mr. Rockharrt had not been neglecting his own business, while looking
after the missing governor-elect, nor had he been leaving it to his sons
and partners, whom he refused to trust. He had been corresponding
with his chief manager, Ryland. This correspondence had not been
entirely satisfactory, so at length he wrote to Ryland to come to the city

for a business talk. It was about the middle of August that the manager
arrived and was closeted with his chief. After two hours' discussion of
business matters, which ended satisfactorily, the manager, rising to
leave the study, observed:
"This is a bad job about the governor, sir!"
"I do not wish to talk of this matter," said Mr. Rockharrt.
"Very well, sir, I am dumb," replied the manager, taking up his hat to
leave the house.
"Do you go back to North End by the night train?" inquired Mr.
Rockharrt.
"Yes, sir! I must be at my post to-morrow morning, in order to carry
out your instructions."
"Quite right," said the head of the great firm. Then with strange
inconsistency, since he had declared that he wished to talk no more on
the subject of the lost governor, he suddenly inquired:
"What do the people of North End say about the disappearance of
Governor Rothsay?"
"Some say he was beguiled away by that man who called on him late at
night, and that he was murdered and his body made away with. But I
beg your pardon, sir, for repeating such dreadful things."
"Go on! What else do they say?"
"Well, sir, one says one thing, and one another; but they all agree that
Old Scythia could tell something if she chose."
"Old Scythia? And what has she to do with the loss of the governor?"
"Nothing that I know of, sir. But the people at North End say that she
has."

"Why do they say it?"
"Because, sir, on the day of the wedding, and the eve of the
inauguration, she did foretell, in the hearing of a score, that Mr.
Rothsay would never take his seat as governor."
"What! Absurd! Preposterous!"
"Of course it was, sir! Yet she did say that, sir, in the hearing of twenty
or more of us, and it was a strange coincidence, to say the least, that her
words came true. She said it in the presence of many witnesses on the
day before the intended inauguration, and when there seemed no
possibility of her words coming true. And strange to say, they have
come true."
Old Aaron Rockharrt mused for a few minutes and then replied:
"There is no such thing as divination, or soothsaying, or prophesy, or
fortune telling in this world. It is all coarse imposture, that can deceive
only the weakest mortals. You know that, of course, Ryland. It follows,
then, that this old woman could have had no knowledge of what was
going to happen