She was brought into the room in the custody of two servants. She wore a kind of flannel wrapper, which had not been changed since the night before. It was torn and soiled, and here and there smeared with blood, which had flowed in large quantities from a wound in her head. The white handkerchief had fallen off in the scuffle, and her grizzled hair fell in masses about her wild and deadly pale countenance.
She appeared perfectly composed, however, and the only regret she expressed throughout, was at not having succeeded in her attempt, the object of which she did not pretend to conceal.
On being asked her name, she called herself the Countess Glenfallen, and refused to give any other title.
“The woman’s name is Flora Van-Kemp,” said Lord Glenfallen.
“It was, it was, you perjured traitor and cheat!” screamed the woman; and then there followed a volley of words in some foreign language. “Is there a magistrate here?” she resumed; “I am Lord Glenfallen’s wife—I’ll prove it—write down my words. I am willing to be hanged or burned, so he meets his deserts. I did try to kill that doll of his; but it was he who put it into my head to do it—two wives were too many; I was to murder her, or she was to hang me: listen to all I have to say.”
Here Lord Glenfallen interrupted.
“I think, sir,” said he, addressing the magistrate “that we had better proceed to business; this unhappy woman’s furious recriminations but waste our time. If she refuses to answer your questions, you had better, I presume, take my depositions.”
“And are you going to swear away my life, you black-perjured murderer?” shrieked the woman. “Sir, sir, sir, you must hear me,” she continued, addressing the magistrate; “I can convict him—he bid me murder that girl, and then, when I failed, he came behind me, and struck me down, and now he wants to swear away my life. Take down all I say.”
“If it is your intention,” said the magistrate, “to confess the crime with which you stand charged, you may, upon producing sufficient evidence, criminate whom you please.”
“Evidence!—I have no evidence but myself,” said the woman. “I will swear it all—write down my testimony—write it down, I say—we shall hang side by side, my brave lord—all your own handy-work, my gentle husband!”