The Baronet's Bride Part 57

"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 pa.s.sed 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, G.o.d! 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 G.o.d 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.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI.

"AFTER STORM, THE SUNSHINE."

Earlier in the evening, when Harriet had told her story to Mr. Bryson, that gentleman had proceeded at once to the prison to inform the prisoner and the officials that the murdered lady was alive.

There he found the warden of the prison and the clergyman, listening with very perplexed faces to a story the prisoner was narrating.

"This is a most extraordinary revelation," the clergyman was saying.

"I really don't know what to think."

"What is it?" asked Mr. Bryson.

"A story which, wildly incredible as it seems, is yet true as Holy Writ," answered the prisoner. "The real murderer is found. She has been here, and admitted her guilt."

"What!" exclaimed the lawyer. "Sybilla Silver?"