In this manner did they proceed for upwards of half an hour, when they reached the fence surrounding the gardens of Ravensworth Hall. Adeline opened the wicket by means of a key which she had with her, and hurried her companion through the grounds to the private door at the southern extremity of the mansion. This she also opened and locked again when they had entered. She then conducted the Resurrection Man up the staircase, and finally into her boudoir.
Guiding him to a chair, she released him from the silk cap; but when it was removed, he could perceive nothing—for the room was quite dark.
"My enemy is certain to come hither shortly," whispered Adeline: "it may be directly—or it may be in an hour;—still she is sure to come. I shall conceal you behind a curtain—in case the wrong person might happen to enter the room by accident. But when any one comes in, and you hear me close the door and say 'WRETCH!' rush upon her—seize her by the throat—and strangle her. Are you strong enough to do this?—for no blood must be shed."
"Trust to me, ma'am," returned Tidkins. "The woman—whoever she may be—will never speak again after my fingers once grasp her neck."
Adeline then guided him behind the curtain of her bed; and she herself took her post near the door.
And now succeeded a most appalling interval of nearly twenty minutes,—appalling only to Adeline; for her hardened accomplice was thinking far more of the additional sum he was about to earn, than of the deed he was hired to perpetrate.
But, Adeline—oh, her thoughts were terrible in the extreme! Not that she dreaded the failure of the deadly plot, and a consequent exposure of the whole machination:—no—her plans were too well laid to admit that contingency. But she felt her mind harrowing up, as it were, at the blackness of the tragedy which was in preparation.
Twenty minutes, we said, elapsed:—twenty years of mental agony—twenty thousand of acute suffering, did that interval appear to be.
At length a step echoed in the corridor;—nearer and nearer it came.
Good God! what pangs lacerated the heart of Lady Ravensworth;—and even then—far as she had gone—she was on the point of rushing forward, and crying, "No! no!—spare—spare her!"