After about a quarter of an hour, the wounded man, who till then had lain motionless, made a slight movement. His eyes unclosed, his lips muttered incoherent words, and the Major, bending toward him, heard him repeating: “My Lord—the letter—Ben Joyce.”
The Major repeated these words, and looked at his companions. What did Mulrady mean? Ben Joyce had been the attacking party, of course; but why? Surely for the express purpose of intercepting him, and preventing his arrival at the Duncan. This letter—
Glenarvan searched Mulrady’s pockets. The letter addressed to Tom Austin was gone!
The night wore away amid anxiety and distress; every moment, they feared, would be poor Mulrady’s last. He suffered from acute fever. The Sisters of Charity, Lady Helena and Mary Grant, never left him. Never w
