A pile of stones was near the brink.
"Throw the body upon the ground," said Adeline.
The Resurrection Man obeyed, and seated himself quietly by it.
Adeline averted her eyes from the pale countenance, on which a faint stream of straggling moonlight stole through the darkness of the night;—and rapidly did she busy herself to secure her casket of rich jewels and several huge stones about the corpse. This she did by means of a strong cord, with which she had provided herself; for—fearful woman!—she had not omitted one single detail of her horrible plan—nor did she hesitate to sacrifice her precious casket to aid in the assurance of her own safety.
When this labour was finished,—and it did not occupy many minutes,—Adeline rolled the body down the precipitous bank into the pond.
There was a splash—a gurgling sound; and all was still.
"By God!" murmured the Resurrection Man; "this is the cleverest woman I ever met in my life. I really quite admire her!"
The words did not, however, reach the ears of Lady Ravensworth,—or she would have recoiled with abhorrence from that fearful admiration which she had excited in the mind of such a miscreant—a resurrectionist—a murderer!
"Every thing is now finished," said Adeline, breathing more freely. "Let as depart."
She led her companion across the fields:—her delicate feet were wet with the dew;—and though she felt wearied—oh! so wearied that she was ready to sink,—yet that woman—within a few weeks of becoming a mother—was armed with an almost superhuman energy, now that it was too late to retreat and her enemy was no more.