“Do nothing rash, my mother—my most injured mother. Keep your own counsel, for I will never betray you!”
The next instant she was as calm and self-possessed as ever, but the wardress had overheard her words.
When the visitor had departed, the prisoner was carefully searched by the women, but no instrument of self-destruction was found upon her, and she was permitted at last to lie down and rest, guarded by the wardress.
On the night succeeding the conviction of the strange adventuress, the Lord Chief Baron Elverton was seated alone in his apartment at the Leaton Arms, pondering over the subject of the most inexplicable criminal trial at which he had ever presided; for though the guilt of the accused had been established to the satisfaction of the Jury, yet her motive for the deed was still a deep mystery.
Jealousy, revenge, avarice, ambition, the usual incentives to such crimes, seemed totally wanting in this case, and why she had exterminated her benefactor’s family was still a secret.
While the baron pondered over this subject, the door was opened and a visitor announced.
It was a woman of majestic appearance, clothed in deep mourning and closely veiled.
She advanced to the table, at which he was seated, and threw aside her veil. And oh, what a countenance was there revealed!
It was a fine face, still bearing the vestiges of magnificent beauty, but it was the thunder-blasted beauty of the ruined archangel!
“Again!” cried the baron, with a shudder of horror, as he met her dark, splendid eyes, now blazing with the fires of insanity.