XIV. HOW MRS. CALVERLEY PASSED THE NIGHT.
Until lately, it had not been Teresa's custom to fasten her chamber door. But as soon as Laura was gone, she locked it, and the dressing-room door as well.
She then sought for the phial of poison, and placed it on a small table near her bed. Why she did this, she could scarcely tell. Probably she felt that if an impulse of self-destruction assailed her during the night, she would yield to it, and get rid of the ceaseless mental torture she endured.
Though all had gone well since Lord Courland's arrival, she had been greatly alarmed by some remarks he had made, and had vainly endeavoured to tranquillise herself by thinking that the difficulties and dangers that beset her could be easily overcome.
Now she was left alone, she saw the folly of such reasoning. She felt that her marriage project could only be accomplished by the commission of another crime. Lord Courland had given her several hints that convinced her he would claim the fulfilment of her promise, and how could she fulfil it, if Mildred were not removed?
But the contemplation of this crime awakened such horror in her breast, that sleep fled, and her thoughts drove her almost distracted.
Unable to rest, she arose, wrapped herself in a dressing-gown, and sat down, trying to calm her thoughts. But in vain.
A lamp burning on the table on which the phial was placed, kept that terrible object constantly before her, and seemed to prompt her to have recourse to it.
Being long past midnight, it was to be supposed that all the inmates of the mansion, except herself, were buried in slumber, but the restless woman felt sure she heard footsteps in the gallery outside.
Who could be there at that hour? She was not left long in doubt. A tap was heard at the door, and to her inquiry who was there, a voice answered, “Rose.”
Everything alarmed her now, and even this visit terrified her.
But after a moment's delay, she opened the door, and saw Rose in a robe de chambre belonging to one of the young ladies, and holding a taper in her hand.
“Pardon me for disturbing you, madam,” she said. “But Miss Calverley has been taken suddenly ill, and is very faint, and Miss Barfleur has sent me to you for some sal-volatile, or some other stimulant, to revive her.”
On hearing this, an infernal idea crossed Teresa.
“Give her three or four drops of eau de luce from this phial,” said Teresa, giving her the poison. “I have just taken that quantity myself, for I have not felt well to-night. Not more than four drops, mind. Be very particular. And when you have given her the dose, bring back the phial to me.”
“Won't you give it to her yourself, ma'am?” said Rose.
“No; I would rather not leave my room,” replied Teresa. “Lose no time.”
“The spirit of darkness has aided me,” cried Teresa, as Rose departed on her terrible errand. “The deed will now be done.”
Though not many minutes elapsed before Rose returned, it seemed a century to Teresa. She could scarcely restrain herself from going to the room occupied by the victim.
At length, Rose reappeared, bringing the phial with her. Teresa received it with trembling fingers.
“Has she taken the drops?” inquired Teresa, in a scarcely articulate voice.
“She has,” replied Rose. “She was very unwilling to take them, but Miss Barfleur and myself persuaded her.”
“You did right,” observed Teresa. “She will be well before morning.”
“I hope so,” said Rose. “But you look very ill yourself, ma'am.”
“I am ill,” replied Teresa. “But don't mind me. Go back to Miss Calverley. I hope I shall now get some sleep.”
As soon as Rose was gone, Teresa again locked the door.
Amid the turmoil of thoughts that agitated her, she preserved a sort of calm that enabled her to go through the business she had to do.
Without a moment's loss of time she unfastened the dressing-box, replaced the bottle of poison, took out another phial resembling it, and really containing eau de luce, and then made all secure again.
This done, she drank a very small portion from the phial, and placed it where the poison had stood. Before seeking her couch she unlocked both her doors, judging it best to manifest no uneasiness.
Did she sleep?
How are we to account for it? She had scarcely laid her head on the pillow, than she fell into a deep, sound slumber, that was not disturbed by a dream, and that lasted till daybreak.