Scarcely had this reflection entered her mine, when a voice—stealing, at it were, like the hiss of an invisible serpent through the utter darkness of the place—smote upon her ear.
“Madam—Mrs. Mortimer—loosen the cord—and I will give you half of what I shall then take from that villain Rily!” were the earnest, hastily uttered words that were thus suddenly whispered by the murderer.
The old woman was so startled that she could make no reply; and in another moment the light reappeared.
She mechanically cast her eyes towards Vitriol Bob; and the returning glimmer fell upon a countenance infuriate with rage, disappointment, and renewed spite;—but she did not think it worth while to mention to the Doctor the treacherous proposal that had been made to her during his temporary absence.
“I have put the corpse in the back kitchen,” said Rily, resuming his seat on the barrel: then, after a few moments’ pause, he observed, “This is the second murder that has been committed in this house.”
“The second!” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer, suddenly animated with a feeling of morbid curiosity.
“Yes—the second,” repeated Rily. “What! did you never hear how these three houses came to be shut up, and why they are supposed to be haunted?”
“Never,” answered the old woman, her manner convincing the garrulous Mr. John Rily that she had no objection to be enlightened on the subject.
“Well—as it can’t be more than half-past eleven o’clock, and we have two hours and a half to pass away, according to agreement, in this place,” resumed the Doctor, “I don’t mind telling you the whole story. Our friend Bob here has heard it often enough, I dare say: but he will himself admit that it bears telling over and over again.”
Jack Rily paused for a few moments, and then commenced the promised narrative, which we shall, however, put into our own language, the semi-jocular and flippant style of the Doctor not being quite suited for so serious a history.