"
"Gone! gone!" echoed the old man, in his imbecile distraction, and
dropped his gray head upon the corpse, and groaned aloud.
Mrs. Waugh came and laid her hand affectionately on his shoulder. He
looked up in such hopeless, helpless trouble, and cried out:
"Oh, Henrietta! he was my son--my only, only son! My poor, unowned boy!
Oh, Henrietta! is he dead? Are you sure? Is he quite gone?"
"He is gone, Commodore Waugh; lay him down; come away to your room,"
said Henrietta, gently taking his hand.
Jacquelina, white with horror, was kneeling with clasped hands and
dilated eyes, gazing at the ruin. The old man's glance fell upon her
there, and his passion changed from grief to fury. Fiercely he broke
forth:
"It was you! You are the murderess--you! Heaven's vengeance light upon
you!"
"Oh, I never meant it! I never meant it! I am very wretched! I wish I'd
never been born!" cried Jacquelina, wringing her pale fingers.
"Out of my sight, you curse! Out of my sight--and may Heaven's wrath
pursue you!" thundered the commodore, shaking with grief and rage.
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE BODY ON THE BEACH.
In the meanwhile, where was he whose headlong passions had precipitated
this catastrophe? where was Thurston? After having parted with his
confederate, he hurried home, for a very busy day lay before him.
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