"It is not usual in the case of an untried prisoner; but, however, the governor of Banff jail seemed to think as you do, for he farther determined to make a special visit to the prisoner that night, to search his cell and remove from it everything with which he might possibly injure himself. And accordingly the governor, accompanied by the turnkey, went to the cell and made a thorough search. They found nothing suspicious, however. But in their late though excessive caution they carried away, not only the prisoner's razor, but his pen-knife and scissors. And then they left him."
"And after all, left him with the means of self-destruction," exclaimed Claudia.
"No, they did not. You shall hear. About eight o'clock that night, as the watchman of that ward was pacing his rounds, he heard deep groans issuing from Lord Vincent's cell. He went and gave the alarm. The warden, the physician, and the turnkey entered the cell together. They found the viscount in the agonies of death."
"Great Heavens! Alone and dying in his cell!"
"Yes; and suffering even more distress of mind than of body. When it was too late, he regretted his rash deed. For he freely confessed that being driven to despair and almost if not quite to madness, by the desperate state of his affairs, he had procured laudanum through the agency of his servant, having persuaded the old man that he merely wanted the medicine to allay pain."
"Poor, poor soul!"
"Cuthbert, simple and unsuspicious, and as easily deceived as a child, brought the laudanum to him and bid him adieu for the night. And it was in the interval between the last visit of the turnkey and the special visit of the governor that the prisoner drank the whole of the laudanum. And then to prevent suspicion he washed the label from the bottle and poured in a little ink from his inkstand. So that when the governor made his visit of inspection, although he actually handled that bottle, he took it for nothing else but a receptacle for ink."
"Oh, how dreadful! how dreadful, that anyone should exercise so much calculation, cunning, and foresight for the destruction of his own soul!" moaned Claudia.
"Yes; he himself thought so at last; for no sooner did the poison begin to do its work, no sooner did he feel death approaching, than he was seized with horror at the enormity of his own crime, and with remorse for the sins of his whole life. It would seem that in that hour his eyes were opened for the first time, and he saw himself as he really was, a rampant rebel against all the laws of God and on the brink of eternal perdition. It was the great agony of mind produced by this view of himself and his condition that forced from him those deep groans that were heard by the night-watch, who brought the relief to him."
"Then he must have repented. Oh! I hope that God forgave him!" prayed Claudia, with earnest tones and clasped hands.