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The Mill Mystery

Chapter 6 MRS. POLLARD.

Word Count: 2220    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

s mated, and a

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he brothers at my side did not tend to alleviate the dread which the silence, the constant suspense, the cold gloom of the ever dimly-lighted chamber were calculated to arouse; for the atmosphere of unreality and gloom was upon them too, and, saving the quick, short sigh that escaped from their lips now and then, neither of them spoke nor relaxed for an instant from that strain of painful attention which had for its focus their mother's stony face. Mrs. Harrington, who, in her youthful freshne

y breast. Dwight, on the contrary, who had sat like a statue ever since the room began to darken, showed no evidence of being influenced by this change, and, convinced that any movement towards a more cheerful order of things must come from me, I rose, and, without consulting his wishes, dropped the curtains and lighted the lamp. The instant I had

if but for an instant, free from that shadowy something which dropped a vail of mistrust between us. It seemed to show me that evil was not innate in this man, and explained, if it did n

weakness made the possibility of encountering his waking eye a matter of some apprehension. I knew that honor demanded I should rouse him, that he would not thank me for letting him sleep after his brother had left the room; and yet,

n me deepened and strengthened till I began to ask if I had not given too much scope to my imagination since I had been in this house, and

one of cheerfulness and ease, at least robbing it of much of that sepulchral character which had hitherto made it so nearly unbearable to me. The surroundings, too, seemed to partake of the new spirit of life which had seized me. The

ns, instead of sitting there like a statue of fear in the presence of an impending fate. But do what I would, say to myself what I would, I could not stir. A nightmare of terror was upon me, and not till I saw the stony lips move and the face take a look of life in the effort made to speak, did I burst the spell that held me and start to

you, swear you will never divulge what took p

Dwight Pollard leaped by me, and hiding the face of the dying woman on his

raves." Then, as I took a hurried, though by no means steady, step to

was all that left them. The reaction from hope and trust to a

at I could be affected by any thing which could happen in this house. Yet when, in answer to my summons, he joined me in the hall, I found it difficult

will you be kind enough to

be an honest one. "She called upon her sons, and said that she would haunt them

ontrol, I could not prevent myself from experiencing an increased dread of this

ich had warned me of so much, did not warn me of that, and it was with no other feeling than one of surprise that I noted the extreme deference with which he open

osition he still held over his mother's form. He subsided back, however, as I drew to one side and let Guy pass unheeded to the bed, and it

lounge I saw there, asked myself whether I ought to shut the door between us, or whether my devotion to Ada's cause bade me listen to whatever came directly in my way to hear? The fact that I was in a measure prisoned there, there being no other outlet to the room than the one by which I had entered, determined me to igno

er voice rose again in those tones whose force and co

th! Dwight, Guy,

by the solemn murmur that followed, I gathered t

to the relief he had given her, and the "Now Dwight!" whi

and to the sound of an opening door rang out the words: "Keep her away! What do you let her

spite of the constraining hands of her two sons, into an attitude expressive of the most intense repulsion, terror, and dread; and at the door, the fainting form of the pretty, dimpled, care-shunning daughter, who, struck to the heart by this poisoned dart from the han

at mother's face, that my heart stood still, and I scarcely knew whether to bear my burden from the room, or to rush with it to that bedside and lay it, in all its childlike beauty, on that maddened mother's dying br

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