from the scene) what is to be done with this unfortunate woman?" "Dear, my lady, I can't tell; I have neither strength to dig a grave, nor can I carry her down." "It is plain, (said Matilda) the wretches who have carried off the lady, murdered the servant to prevent discovery." "I fear, (cried Joseph) my turn will be next—my mouth will be stopt from the same fear." "God forbid, (said Matilda;) but as I have now no hopes of finding the lady, and it will be dangerous to entrust another person with the secret, I think, Joseph, if we can find a small trunk, or chest, to fill it with the linen and necessaries your lady offered me, and convey it to one of the rooms in the other wing; I will write a line and leave on the table: yet, on second thought, it will be useless, should she escape, she can never think of coming here again: we will therefore lock and bolt up every door; you can take the keys of the places below to your own kitchen, and now and then come through the passage to see if all is safe." Poor Joseph, with a heavy heart, agreed to this.
They had now stayed some time, and thought it best to separate and meet again after dinner: they gladly left those horrid rooms, and returned by different ways to their own habitation.
When Matilda came to her apartment, the terror of her mind was unspeakable; all she had seen, all she had heard, crowded upon her remembrance, and gave her the most horrible ideas. She could not think Joseph's fears unreasonable: if he was supposed to be in the secret, his life was not safe, and in his fate the whole family might be involved: "What can I—what ought I to do? (cried she, shedding a torrent of tears) no friend to advise me, no certainty of a place to receive me, if I go from hence, and a probability, that if I stay, I may be murdered:—what a dreadful alternative is mine!" After giving free vent to her tears, she endeavoured to compose her mind, by addressing the Almighty Power to protect her.
