SIBYL'S DOOM.
"Great Heaven! how could thy vengeance light
So bitterly on one so bright?
How could the hand that gave such charms,
Blast them again in Love's own arms?"--MOORE.
As Stafford had said, a subp[oe]na was served on Mrs. Brantwell, to
be present at the great trial about which everybody was talking.
That good lady, who had determined already to go, regarded it as a
useless ceremony; but Fate seemed determined to deprive her of that
melancholy consolation, for two days before the eventful one on which
the trial was to take place, poor Mrs. Brantwell, worn out by
excitement and constant weeping, was seized with such a violent sick
headache, that she was utterly unable to leave her bed. In vain,
when the day "big with fate" came, did she attempt to rise. At the
first effort she was seized with such a deadly faintness--such a
blinding giddiness, that she was instantly forced to go to bed again.
And there, half delirious, with her head throbbing and beating like
mad, she was forced to lie, while her physician wrote a certificate
of her inability to attend, which Mr. Brantwell was to convey to
Westport.
How that day passed, and the next, and the next, Mrs. Brantwell never
knew. Lying in her darkened chamber, with bandages wet with vinegar
bound around her burning forehead, with servants tiptoeing in and
out, and speaking in hushed whispers, the time passed as it does in a
dream. With her mind as well as her body utterly prostrate, she was
spared the suspense concerning the position of Sibyl she must
otherwise have suffered.
But on the fourth day, Saturday, though weak and languid, she was
able to rise, and, with the assistance of Jenny, descended to the
parlor, where, smothered in shawls, she lay rocking back and forth in
her large easy chair.
And now, recovered from the first prostration of bodily illness, she
thought of the time that had passed, and began to feel all the
tortures of doubt and agonizing suspense again. Sibyl's trial must
be over by this time, and--_what had been the result?_
So unendurable grew this uncertainty, that she was about to dispatch
a messenger to Westport to learn the result of the trial, when the
clatter of horses' hoofs before the door arrested her attention, and
the next instant the door was thrown open, and Will Stafford stood
before her.
Yes, Will Stafford; but so changed that she almost screamed as she
saw him. Worn, haggard, and ghastly; with convulsed brow, white
lips, and despairing eyes; with such a look of passionate grief,
anguish, and despair that the scream was frozen on her lips; and
white, rigid, and speechless, she stood staring, unable to utter a
word.
Without speaking, almost without looking at her, he threw himself
into a chair, and buried his face in his hands.
Oh! what meant that look, that action, that ominous silence? For one
moment the sight seemed leaving Mrs. Brantwell's eyes--the power of
life seemed dying out in her heart; but by a mighty effort of her
will she resisted the deadly faintness that was creeping over her,
and asked, in a voice so low and tremulous, that it was almost
inaudible:
"What of Sibyl?"
A groan, that seemed to rend the heart from which it came, burst from
the lips of Stafford.
"What of Sibyl?" repeated Mrs. Brantwell, breathing hard, in her
effort to be calm.
"Oh! Mrs. Brantwell, do not ask!" exclaimed Stafford, in a stifling
voice.
"Sibyl, Sibyl!" were the only words the white, quivering lips could
utter.
"Oh! how can I tell her?" cried Stafford, springing up, and wildly
beginning to pace the room.
"Sibyl! what of her?" wailed Mrs. Brantwell, pressing her hands to
her heart.
"Sibyl is--oh, Heaven? how can I speak the terrible words?" exclaimed
the excited young man, pacing up and down like one demented.
"Heavens! will you tell me before I go mad?" cried Mrs. Brantwell,
becoming as much excited as himself.
"Then listen--since I must repeat her awful fate! Sibyl has been
tried, convicted, and _doomed to die_!"
The look that Mrs. Brantwell's face wore that moment, never left the
memory of Will Stafford. There was a sound as of many waters in her
ears, a sudden darkness before her eyes, her brain reeled, and her
head dropped helplessly on the arm of her chair.
Stafford, in alarm, flew to the bell; but overcoming, with a mighty
effort, that deadly inclination to swoon, she lifted up her head, and
half raised her hand, in a faint motion to stop him.
"I want nothing; it is over," she said, tremulously. "Sit down
before me and tell me all. The worst is over, and I can bear
anything now."
"Oh! it was horrible, monstrous, outrageous, this sentence,"
exclaimed Stafford, with a burst of passionate grief. "I never
dreamed for an instant--never did--that she would be condemned. Oh,
curse that Courtney! Heaven's malediction rest on him, here and
hereafter!" he hissed through his clenched teeth.
"Tell me all! Oh, tell me all!" said Mrs. Brantwell, trying to
steady her trembling voice.
"I wish I could! I came for that purpose; but I am going mad, I
think," said Stafford, throwing himself into a chair with something
like a howl of mingled rage and despair. "_She_ told me to come and
tell you; nothing else could have made me leave Westport while she
lives."
"Was it Sibyl?"
"Yes; Mr. Brantwell could not travel as fast as I could, and will not
be here till to-morrow, and I--oh! I rode as if the old demon were
at my heels all the way--and I'll never rest easy again till I've put
a bullet through Courtney's brain; for, he's the cause of it all,
with his diabolical circumstantial evidence," exclaimed Stafford,
with still increasing vehemence.
"Mr. Stafford, do give me the particulars!"
"You know the trial was to commence on Tuesday?"
"Yes."
"Well, as soon as the doors of the court-house were thrown open, the
galleries, and staircases, and every corner of the building were
filled to suffocation by an eager crowd. I got in among the rest of
the rabble, and secured a good place where I could see and hear
everything. Owing to some cause or other, the people had to wait a
good while; and just as they were getting clamorous and impatient,
they saw the carriage making its way slowly through the mass of
people that lined and crowded the streets, unable to obtain an
entrance into the court-house. Then every one was on tiptoe with
expectation to see the prisoner, the fame of whose wealth and beauty,
and the strange circumstances attending her arrest, had been blazoned
the whole country round. It was with the greatest difficulty that a
passage could be forced through the crowd as she entered, dressed in
deepest black, closely veiled, and in the custody of the high
sheriff. Captain Campbell and Drummond followed closely after, and
took their places near her. As she took her seat, you might have
heard a pin drop, so intense was the silence; but when, a moment
after, she threw back her vail, and her pale, beautiful face, with
its dark, proud, scornful eyes, that went wandering for an instant
round with contemptuous disdain for the gaping crowd, a low, deep
murmur of admiration, surprise, and pity, passed through the vast
assemblage of human beings; and the next instant they were profoundly
still once more.
"The jury were already impaneled, and the presiding judge, and the
State attorney, and Sibyl's counsel, had taken their places, so the
trial immediately commenced. When the clerk of the court put the
customary question--'Guilty or not guilty'--I wish you had seen the
slender form of Sibyl tower aloft, and her glorious eyes flash, and
her beautiful lip curl with scorn and disdain, as she answered:
"'_Not_ guilty! your honor.'
"There is no use in my telling you the State attorney's charge.
You'll see it all in the papers, if you have any curiosity on the
subject. All I need say is, that it seemed to destroy every
favorable impression made on the minds of the jury by the youth,
beauty, and sex of the prisoner. He spoke of the pain it gave him to
be obliged to make this charge against a woman, whose interesting
appearance he saw had already made a deep impression on the minds of
all present; but he trusted the gentlemen of the jury would not allow
themselves to be carried away by their feelings, for 'appearances
were often deceitful;' and he made a long preamble about demons
wearing the forms of angels of light, and of the crimes other women,
gentle and loving before, had been induced to commit in sudden
paroxysms of jealousy--as this crime had been--as he was prepared to
prove. He spoke of many cases of women--some of which had come under
his own immediate knowledge--of women stabbing themselves, their
lovers, their rivals, in fits of jealous passion. He spoke of the
well-known jealousy and vindictiveness that had ever characterized
the race from which the interesting prisoner at the bar had sprung,
and that he would soon show that she had been ever noted--even since
childhood--for these same faults. Then he drew a pathetic picture of
the victim--her youth, her gentleness, her trusting simplicity--until
every woman present was sobbing as if her heart would break. But
when he concluded by saying that the murdered girl was the wife of
the prisoner's lover--married to him in secret, as he would shortly
prove--a thrill ran through every heart."
"_His wife!_" exclaimed Mrs. Brantwell, looking up in dismay and
incredulity.
"Yes, Mrs. Brantwell, his wife; and she _was_, too," said Stafford,
sorrowfully. "When Willard Drummond--who had all this time been
standing motionless, his hat drawn over his brow--heard the words, he
started, reeled, and turned as deadly white as if he had received a
pistol-shot through the heart. Sibyl lifted her wild, black eyes,
and reading in that look, that action, the truth of the words, with a
long, low cry dropped her face in her hands, with such a look of
utter despair, that every heart stood still. Captain Campbell sprang
up as if some one had speared him, and would have throttled Drummond
on the spot, I firmly believe, if a policeman had not interfered, and
held him back.
"The first witness called was an old Methodist minister, who deposed,
on oath, that he had married Willard Drummond--whom he promptly
identified--to a young girl called Christina Tomlinson, about a year
and a half previously, as nearly as he could then recollect. They
were married at night, without attendants; and the bride seemed very
much frightened. He concluded by giving a description of her, which
exactly tallied with that of little Christie.
"Mrs. Tom was then called, and affirmed that on the night in
question, Christie had gone to Westport with Drummond; and when they
returned late at night, she found her niece lying senseless in his
arms, which circumstance he accounted for by some plausible reason
she had now forgotten. Being cross-examined, she affirmed that the
deceased and the young man Drummond were always together, after the
prisoner left the island; and she, Mrs. Tom, not liking their
intimacy, had endeavored to put a stop to it, but in vain. She could
not swear positively that her niece and Miss Campbell were bad
friends, but she did not think they were on good terms; and her
principal reason for ending the intimacy between the deceased and Mr.
Drummond, had been the fear of the prisoner's anger, which she knew,
when excited, was extremely violent. That on the night of the murder
the deceased had appeared out of spirits, and complaining of a
headache, had retired early. That when she awoke in the morning she
found her gone, and the house-door open, things which had never
happened before. That she had no suspicions of the truth, until Miss
Campbell came in and told her her niece was murdered. That thereupon
they had gone down to the beach together, and she had identified a
handkerchief belonging to her niece, marked with her name, deeply
clotted with blood. That the prisoner--who had never hitherto
appeared to care for Christie--seemed deeply, almost wildly agitated
that morning, which had surprised her (the witness) not a little at
the time.
"Mrs. Tom was then dismissed, and Captain Campbell was called to take
the stand. A low murmur of sympathy ran around as they observed his
pale and haggard face; and all listened with breathless interest to
the testimony he reluctantly gave. He said that on the evening of
the murder, being on the island, Christie had approached and given
him a note, which she directed him to give to his sister. That he
had done so; and that Sibyl had appeared violently agitated upon
receiving it, and impetuously insisted upon going to the island that
night. That he had urged her not to go, but she had insisted; and
upon his telling her Carl Henley was going over that evening, she had
said she would accompany him; and he had then left the room, and he
did not see her again for upward of a fortnight.
"Carl Henley next took the stand, and after the usual oath, stated
that on the evening of the murder he had taken Sibyl across to the
island. That in the boat she had talked wildly, though he could not
recollect what she had said. That she had left him when they had
reached the shore, and had run up the rocks, through the storm, in
the direction of the lodge. That he had returned to the cottage; and
shortly after went to bed, leaving 'Aunt Tom,' as he called her, and
Christie down stairs. That about midnight, being awakened by the
violence of the storm, he had got up and distinctly heard a cry of
'murder,' though whether it was in Christie's voice or not, he could
not say. That a moment after, by the light of a flash of lightning,
he had seen a woman flying past, with long black hair streaming
behind her, 'jest like her,' he expressed himself, pointing to Sibyl.
Being cross-examined, he swore positively to seeing the woman, whom
he said he took, at the time, to be Sibyl; and nothing her counsel
could say could weaken his testimony in the least.
"There were several other witnesses examined; but though I have
forgotten their testimony, it all went to prove that Christie was
beloved by everybody who knew her but Sibyl; that she had not an
enemy in the world but Sibyl. Among others, came that infernal
Courtney, who swore positively that he knew Sibyl to be jealous of
Christie; and in proof of which, adduced several circumstances that
seemed to have a great deal of weight with the bench; that Sibyl's
agitation upon receiving Christie's note was so palpable, that he
began to have misgivings on the spot; that when he beheld her, the
following day, after coming from the island, she seemed like one
deprived of reason, as if 'remorse for some crime' preyed upon her.
Oh! I could have strangled the white-livered villain on the spot,"
said Stafford, grinding his teeth. "Then the court was adjourned
until the following day, and the prisoner removed.
"Next day it was the same. There was little new evidence against
Sibyl; but it seemed clear to all that the jury had already made up
their minds as to her guilt; and that her youth and beauty only
seemed to aggravate her crime.
"Then the defense was taken up; and Mr. P---- made a very good
speech, and did all he could to disabuse the minds of the jury, but
it was like beating the air. He did all he could, but that was too
little to save Sibyl.
"The State attorney rose again, and set aside all P.'s arguments in a
cool, contemptuous manner, that carried conviction to the minds of
the spectators. And then the judge arose to sum up the evidence and
charge the jury. In his mind there seemed not the faintest shadow of
a doubt as to the guilt of the prisoner, I cannot remember what he
said; but I know, despite his gray hairs, I felt a demoniacal desire
to knock him down all the time he was speaking. Then the jury
withdrew to deliberate; and during their brief absence the silence of
death reigned in that crowded court-room. Every eye was bent upon
Sibyl; but after hearing of Willard's marriage she never lifted her
head. It was as if the heaviest blow that could possibly befall her
had passed, and life or death mattered nothing to her now.
"The jury was not absent ten minutes ere they returned. Their sudden
entrance was ominous; but their grave, stern faces were more ominous
still. I had to grasp the arm of a man beside whom I stood, for I
felt myself trembling in every limb. The jurors all stood erect, and
every breath seemed suspended.
"'Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon your verdict?' asked
the venerable judge.
"'We have, your honor,' responded the foreman.
"'How say you, then? Is the prisoner at the bar guilty or not guilty
of the crime with which she is charged?'
"'Guilty!' was the awful response.
"At that word, there rose a cry that thrilled through every heart;
and Willard Drummond, like a man possessed of a demon, fled from the
house, while the appalled crowd fell back in turn before him. A
dreadful silence followed; and then the judge arose, and in a voice
that trembled in spite of himself, said:
"'Prisoner, arise, and receive the sentence of the law.'
"Every breath was suspended, every voice was hushed, but the prisoner
neither moved nor stirred. She seemed frozen into the attitude in
which she had fallen, at the news of Willard Drummond's perfidy.
"Mr. Brantwell, who was standing near, with a face pale with deepest
pity, touched her on the shoulder, and said, in a faltering voice:
"'Sibyl, my dearest girl, arise; let me assist you.'
"He took her arm and supported her to her feet; but when she lifted
her head, all beheld a face so cold, so white, so rigid, with such
frozen eyes and colorless lips, such an awful look of woman's deepest
woe, that every face grew pale, and every eye was filled with tears.
As for me, I felt as if I were going mad. I heard the judge saying
something--to save my soul I could not tell what, until the last
awful words met my ears:
"'Prisoner, the sentence of the court is, that you be taken hence to
the prison from whence you came, and from thence to the place of
execution, and that there you be hanged by the neck until you are
dead!'
"I could listen no longer. How I burst from the crowd I know not,
but I reached the open air frantic, almost maddened. The crowd
poured out after me, and presently the prisoner appeared, between
your husband, her brother, and the sheriff.
"I saw no one but Sibyl. Her face wore the same fixed, stony look it
had done when she arose--not a muscle had quivered. It was evident
she heard not, cared not for the awful doom about to befall her. I
broke through the crowd like a madman, until I stood before her.
"'Sibyl--Sibyl!' I cried out.
"Something in my tone arrested her, and she looked vacantly at me.
She passed her hand across her forehead, as if to clear away a mist,
and then said, in a low, dreamy tone:
"'Ah, Mr. Stafford, I have a request to make of you.'
"'What is it?' I asked, scarcely able to speak.
"'Hasten to my dear friend, Mrs. Brantwell, and tell her what has
happened; but, tell her not to be sorry for me, for it is better as
it is. Guy, I am tired; take me away.'
"She said all this in a strange, weary tone, like one that is
bewildered. I saw them help her into a coach, saw it driven away;
and then I went to the hotel, feeling--well, it's no use trying now
to tell you how I felt. Long before daylight this morning, I started
to come here--and that is all."