He stood beside his cabinet as if he had just risen from
this occupation, and was leaning upon his chair, panic-stricken at the
tidings Miss Anne had uttered. His grey hair was scattered over his
forehead, instead of being smoothly brushed back; and the long, loose
coat, which hung carelessly around his shrivelled form and stooping
shoulders, made him look far older than he did in the day-time. As
Stephen's eyes rested upon the sunken form and quaking limbs of the aged
man, he felt, for the first time, how helpless and infirm his enemy was,
instead of the rich, full, and prospering master he had always
considered him.
'Keep off!' cried the old miser, as he caught sight of Stephen on the
threshold; and he raised his withered arm as if to ward him from his
treasures. 'Keep off! Stephen Fern, is it you? You've come to take your
revenge. The robbers and murderers have got in! O God, have pity upon
me!'
'I'm come to take care of Miss Anne,' said Stephen, 'They've not got in
yet, master. And, please God, help will be here afore long with Martha.
The doors and windows are safe.'
'Anne, take him away!' implored Mr.
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