"Miserable woman that she is!" exclaimed Eliza. "Oh! this accounts for her sleepless nights—her constant nervousness—her strange looks!"
"And it is the corpse of Lydia Hutchinson, madam," added Quentin, "which was last night dragged from the pond by that fiend who was hired by my lady to murder her!"
The valet then detailed at length all the conversation which had taken place between the Resurrection Man and Lady Ravensworth, and which explained wherefore Tidkins had fished up the body of the murdered woman.
"It is therefore clear," said Eliza, horror-struck at all she heard, "that it is the lost casket which Tidkins buried at the foot of the tree."
"Doubtless, madam. But it now remains for you to decide what course you will pursue," continued Quentin: "as for me, my mind is made up—I shall depart within an hour from this abode of crime!"
"Such will not be my conduct," said Eliza, firmly. "Dreadful as is the guilt of Lady Ravensworth, I cannot find it in my heart to abandon her to her enemies. She must have received some fearful provocation to have been driven thus to rid herself of a servant whom, under ordinary circumstances, she might have abruptly discharged."
"I think that I can penetrate into the mystery of this crime, madam," observed Quentin. "Her ladyship admitted a certain Colonel Cholmondeley to her chamber; and this intrigue was known to Lydia Hutchinson."
"Oh! crime upon crime!" ejaculated Eliza Sydney, with a shudder. "Yet will I not abandon this very guilty and very miserable woman! No:—for the sake of her babe will I still aid her in defeating her enemies! And this duty becomes the more imperious, inasmuch as if Gilbert Vernon should be made acquainted with her enormities—if the miscreant Tidkins should betray her to his master—he would obtain a hold upon her that must further all his vile schemes."
"And will you remain, madam, in the midst of these murderers?" asked Quentin, profoundly surprised at the resolution of Eliza Sydney:—"will you remain in the same house with Vernon, the murderer of his brother,—with Tidkins, who lives by murder,—and with Lady Ravensworth the murderess of Lydia Hutchinson? Can you continue to dwell in such horrible society?"
"As a matter of duty—yes," answered Eliza. "Were the infant heir of Ravensworth abandoned to the designs of those dreadful men, his life would not be worth a month's purchase; and his mother would not dare to publish the foul deed, even were he murdered before her face!"