At length the deposition was duly drawn up and signed, and he arose, exclaiming:
"But, good heaven! madam, do you not know, if you survive, you will be arrested too, and——"
"Hush!" said Gipsy, sternly; "she is dying."
"I tell you I did not murder her," she exclaimed, almost springing up in bed; "it was he who gave her the poison! I never did it. Listen! do you not hear her shrieks? or is it not the cries of the fiends I hear already? He was afraid. Ha! ha! ha!" she said, with a horrid laugh, "I mocked him until he ventured to do it. He drowned her child, too; he said he did—he threw it into the sea; and dead people tell no tales. Who said it was alive? I will never believe it! It is dead! It is dead!"
She sank back exhausted. The magistrate gazed, white with horror; but Gipsy was calm, stern, and still.
"Look, look! they come for me—their arms are outstretched—they approach—they strangle me. Off, demon—off, I say!" A wild, piercing shriek rang through the house, then she fell back, her jaw dropped, her eyes grew glazed, her face rigid, and Madge Oranmore was dead.
There was a moment's appalled silence. Then the magistrate said:
"Let us leave this dreadful place; the very air seems tainted with blood."
Without a word, she turned and followed him from the room, and the house. Rejecting all his invitations to let him find lodgings for her in the city during the night, she accompanied him to his office, received a warrant for the arrest of Dr. Wiseman; and with two constables, set off immediately for Sunset Hall.