She accordingly hurried to her chamber, dressed herself in her walking-attire, and having left word with her servants that in case Sir Henry Courtenay should call, he was to be requested to wait until her return, sped to the nearest hackney-coach stand, where, stepping into a vehicle, she ordered the driver to take her over to Torrens Cottage.
Yes—thither she was determined to proceed without delay, even at the risk of encountering Rosamond; though she could scarcely believe that the wronged girl had returned home. For, not precisely remembering all the details of the conversation which took place between herself and the baronet, and which Rosamond had overheard, the guilty woman imagined that something more than mere allusions might have been made to the connivance of Mr. Torrens in the ruin of his daughter; and hence Mrs. Slingsby's very natural supposition that the victim of the infernal plot had not returned to the parental dwelling.
The coach did not proceed with particular celerity, and the distance from the West End to Torrens Cottage was great:—Mrs. Slingsby had therefore ample leisure to continue her harrowing meditations upon the real or supposed dangers which menaced her.
In sooth, her position was by no means an enviable one—unless indeed a convict under sentence of death might have preferred her state to that of imminent and ignominious death. For circumstances appeared suddenly to combine against her. She was in the family-way—and this was alone sufficient to cause her the most serious chagrin, especially as her impious scheme of proclaiming herself a second Johanna Southcott had been so completely frustrated by the determined opposition of her paramour. Then there was the affair of Rosamond Torrens, one word from whose lips would have the effect of tearing away the mask of hypocrisy which Mrs. Slingsby had so long worn, and exposing her to the world in all the hideous nudity of her criminal character. Lastly, the unaccountable absence of the baronet filled her mind with the most serious misgivings; for she knew that if he had indeed absconded, and if he should cease to maintain her in a pecuniary sense, her position would become lamentable in the extreme.
All these maddening reflections raised a storm of agitation in her guilty mind; and she could scarcely subdue her excitement so that it should escape the notice of the coachman, as he opened the door of the vehicle when it stopped opposite Torrens Cottage.
Mr. Torrens was at home; and Mrs. Slingsby was immediately conducted by Jeffreys to the parlour—the very parlour where her paramour had been murdered on the preceding evening!
Rosamond, from her bed-room window, had observed the arrival of the hateful woman, and was lost in surprise at her conduct in daring to visit her father's abode.
Mr. Torrens received Mrs. Slingsby in the apartment where, as we have just stated, the awful tragedy of the previous night had been enacted; and this was the first time the criminal pair had ever met.
Bad as Mr. Torrens himself was, he could not help feeling a sentiment of extreme loathing and disgust for the woman who concealed so black a heart beneath the garb of religious hypocrisy;—and, though he endeavoured to speak politely to her as he desired her to be seated, his manner was cold, reserved, and indicative of the influence which her presence produced upon him.
"We know each other by name, Mr. Torrens," began Mrs. Slingsby; "but it is only now that we have met. You can doubtless conjecture the object of my visit——"