HIGHLY SENSATIONAL.
Sybilla Silver went straight from the prison cell of Sir Everard to the
sick-room of his mother. It was almost eleven when she reached the
Court, but they watched the night through in that house of mourning.
Leaving the fly before the front entrance, Sybilla stole round to that
side door she had used the memorable night of March tenth. She
admitted herself without difficulty, and proceeded at once to Lady
Kingsland's sick-room.
She tapped lightly at the door. It was opened instantly, and the pale
face of Mildred looked out.
"You here! How dare you, you cruel, wicked, merciless woman!" she
indignantly cried.
"Hard words, Miss Kingsland. Let me in, if you please--I wish to see
your mother."
"You shall not come in! The sight of you will kill her! Was it not
enough to swear away the life of her only son? Do you want to blast
her dying hours with the sight of your base, treacherous face?"
With a look of scornful contempt, Sybilla took her by the shoulder and
drew her out of the room.
"Don't be an idiot, Mildred Kingsland! I gave my evidence--how could I
help it? It wasn't my fault that your brother murdered his wife. I
must see your mother for ten minutes. I bring a last message from her
son."
"You have been to prison!" she cried. "You dare look my brother in the
face!"
"Just as easily as I do his sister. Am I to see Lady Kingsland, or
shall I go as I came, with Sir Everard's message undelivered?"
"The sight of you will kill her."
"We must risk that."
She passed into the room as she spoke.
"Wait here," she said. "I must see her quite alone, but it will only
be for a few minutes."
She closed the door and stood alone in the sick lady's room.
"Is it you, Mildred? The light is too strong."
"It is not Mildred, my lady. It is I."
"Sybilla Silver!"
No words can describe the look of agony, of terror, of repulsion, that
crossed my lady's face. She held up both hands with a gesture of
loathing and horror.
"Keep off!" she cried. "You murderess!"
"Yes," she cried, "that is the word--murderess!--for I murdered your
daughter-in-law. You never liked her, you know, Lady Kingsland.
Surely, then, when I stabbed her and threw her into the sea, I did you
a good turn. Lie still, and listen to me. I have a long story to tell
you, beginning with the astrologer's prediction."
With fiendish composure Sybilla repeated the story she had told Sir
Everard, while Lady Kingsland lay paralyzed and listened.
The atrocious revelation ended, she looked at her prostrate foe with a
diabolical smile.
"My oath is kept; the prediction is fulfilled. In a few hours the last
of the Kingslands dies by the hand of the common hangman. I have told
you all, and I dare you to injure one hair of my head. Within the hour
my journey from England commences. Search for last year's snow, for
last September's partridges, and when you find them you may hope to
find Sybilla Silver. Burn the prediction, destroy my grandmother's
portrait and lock of hair, so carefully hidden away for many years.
Their work is done, and my vengeance is complete. Lady Kingsland,
farewell!"
"Murderess!" spoke a deep and awful voice--"murderess! murderess!"
"Ah-h-h-h-h!"
With a shriek of wordless affright, Sybilla Silver leaped back, and
stood cowering against the wall. For the dead had risen and stood
before her. The phantom slowly advanced.
"Murderess, confess your guilt!"
"Mercy, mercy! mercy!" shrieked Sybilla Silver. "Spare me! Touch me
not! Oh, God! what is this?"
"Confess!"
"I confess--I murdered you--I stabbed you! Sir Everard is innocent!
Keep off! Mercy! mercy!"
With an unearthly scream, the horrified woman threw up both arms to
keep off the awful vision, and fell forward in strong convulsions.
"Very well done," said Mr. Bryson, entering briskly. "I don't think we
need any further proof of this lady's guilt. You have played ghost to
some purpose, my dear Lady Kingsland. Come in, gentlemen. We'll have
no trouble carrying off our prize."
He paused, and stepped back with a blanched face, for Lady Kingsland
lay writhing in the last agony.
With a wild cry, Mildred threw herself on her knees by her mother's
side.
"Mamma--dear mamma--don't look like that! Harriet is not dead. She is
here alive. It was that dreadful woman who tried to kill her. Everard
is innocent, as we knew he was. He will be here with us in a day or
two."
The dying woman was conscious. Her eyes turned and fixed on Harriet.
The white disguise had been thrown off. She came over to the bedside,
pale and beautiful.
"Mother," she said, sweetly, "it is indeed I. Dear mother, bless me
once."
"May God bless you and forgive me! Tell Everard--" She never finished
the sentence. With the name of the son she idolized upon her lips,
Lady Kingsland was dead.
Harriet's presence of mind did not forsake her. Reverently she kissed
the dead face, closed the eyes, and rose.
"The dead are free from suffering. Our first duty is to the living.
Take me to my husband!"
The constable lifted Sybilla unceremoniously.
The servants gathered outside the door gave way, and he placed her in
the carriage which had conveyed them to the house.
Mr. Parmalee went with him, and Lady Kingsland and the lawyer took
possession of the fly that stood waiting for Miss Silver.
A minute later and they were flying, swift as lash and shout could urge
them, toward Worrel Jail.