“Good Heaven, what a fiend she must be! But she is young, beautiful, high-born, and very accomplished. Do you think that if she is convicted they will really hang her?”
“Hang her? Yes; the young demon! They will hang her as surely as they did Palmer. English juries have no mercy on the secret poisoner. And the fact of this one being a young, beautiful, and high-born girl, only makes her crime the more unnatural and monstrous!”
“But, admiral, it is hard to believe that so lovely a creature could be such a monster,” said the lady.
“Bah! bah! madam; you have not read history, or you have forgotten it. Remember the Countess of Essex, Madame Brinvilliers, Lucretia Borgia, Mary Stuart, and many other young, beautiful, and high-born devils. Human nature is the same in all ages and countries. The youth, beauty, and high-birth of this young Asiatic fiend will no more save her from the gallows than the same sort of charms saved Brinvilliers or Mary Stuart from the block!” replied the old gentleman, savagely.
Shudder after shudder passed over the frame of the unfortunate subject of these severe remarks, as she sat an unsuspected hearer of the conversation.
Malcolm, standing by her side, with his back to the speakers, could only seek to sustain her courage by an earnest pressure of her hand. It was but an ordeal of five minutes, and then the shrill whistle of the advancing train warned all the passengers to hurry to the platform.
The conversing party dropped their interesting subject, and hastened away.
Malcolm, drawing Eudora’s arm within his own, hurried after them.
When they arrived upon the platform the train had stopped, and the engine was noisily puffing and blowing like a short-winded alderman out of breath after a run.
Passengers were hurrying into the various carriages.