A window in the thatch slowly unclosed, and a hoarse female voice croaked forth in reply: "What concern is that of mine? Who are you who disturb honest folk at this hour of the night with your drunken clamours? My house is my castle. Begone, I tell you! I will not come down to let you in."
"Dinah North," said Harrison, solemnly, "I have a message for you, which you dare not gainsay—I command you to unbar the door and receive us instantly."
This speech was answered by a wild shrill cry, more resembling the howl of a tortured dog than any human sound. I felt the blood freeze in my veins. Harrison whispered in my ear: "She will obey my summons, which she believes not one of earth. Stay with your uncle, while I ride forward to the village to procure medical aid, and make a deposition before the magistrate of what has occurred. Don't let the fiend know that I am alive. It is of the utmost importance to us all, that she should still believe me dead."
I tried to detain him, not much liking my present position; but he had vanished, and shortly after I heard the clatter of his horse's hoofs galloping at full speed towards the town.
What a fearful termination of my gloomy presentiments, thought I, as I looked down at the livid face and prostrate form of Robert Moncton.
"Where will this frightful scene end?" I exclaimed.
The gleam of a light flashed across the broken casement; the next moment Dinah North stood before me.
"Geoffrey Moncton, is this you?" There was another voice that spoke to me—a voice from the grave. "Where is your companion?"
"I am alone with the dead," said I, pointing to the body. "Look there!"
She held up the light and bent over that insensible bleeding mass, and looked long, and I thought triumphantly, at the ghastly face of the accomplice in all her crimes. Then turning her hollow eyes on me, she said calmly: