For hours this wretched girl sat upon the floor in the same attitude,
with the cold wind blowing in upon her. All seemed tranquil in the room
below. The voices sounded now and then, subdued and cautious, and there
were no more outbursts of jovial laughter.
A dim, gray streak glimmered faint and low in the east--the first pale
flicker of dawn. The girl raised her weary eyes towards that chill gray
light.
"Oh! if this night were only ended!" she murmured: "if it were only
ended without harm!"
The words were still upon her lips, when the voices sounded loud and
harsh from the room below. The girl started to her feet, white and
trembling. Louder with every moment grew those angry voices. Then came
a struggle; some article of furniture fell with a crash; there was the
sound of shivered glass, and then a dull heavy noise, which echoed
through the house, and shook the weather-beaten wooden walls to their
foundations.
After the fall there came the sound of one loud groan, and then subdued
murmurs, cautious whispers.
The window of Jenny Milsom's room looked towards the road. From that
window she could see nothing of the sluggish ditch or the river.
She tried the door of her room. It was securely locked, as she had
expected to find it.
"They would kill me, if I tried to come between them and their victim,"
she said; "and I am afraid to die.
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