Death speaks with the tongue of Memory, and his ashen hand reaches out of the great unknown to seize and hold fast our plighted souls.
What Maitland's reason was for spending the night with the dead body of Darrow, or how he busied himself until morning, I do not know.Perhaps he desired to make sure that everything remained untouched, or, it may be, that he chose.this method of preventing Gwen from performing a vigil by the body.I thought this latter view very probable at the time, as I had been singularly impressed with the remarkable foresight my friend had displayed in so quickly and adroitly getting Gwen away from everything connected with her father's sad and mysterious death.
Arriving at my house my sister took an early opportunity to urge upon Gwen a glass of wine, in which I had placed a generous sedative.The terrible tension soon began to relax, and in less than half an hour she was sleeping quietly.I dreaded the moment when she should awake and the memory of all that had happened should descend like an avalanche uponher.I told my sister that this would be a critical moment, cautioning her to stay by Gwen and to give her, immediately upon her arising, a draught I had prepared for the purpose of somewhat deadening her sensibilities.I arose early, and went to Maitland's laboratory to collect the things he desired.When I returned Gwen was awake, and to my intense gratification in even a better condition than I had dared to hope.
