"No, no," shrieked Agnes; "it was no disguise. She is gone, I tell you—the room was empty, all the rooms were empty—the passage was void—through the door they went together—silently, silently—ghostlike, slow. Ha! that tomb—they are there together now—he has her in his arms—see, they are here—they glide through the door—do you not see them now? Did I not speak the truth? She is dead—ha, ha!" And with a frantic and bewildering laugh the old woman fell upon her face.
Ranulph raised her from the floor; but the shock of what she had beheld had been too much for her. She was dead!
CHAPTER IV
THE DOWER OF SYBIL
Card. Now art thou come? Thou look'st ghastly;
There sits in thy face some great determination,
Mixed with some fear.
Bos. Thus it lightens into action:
I am come to kill thee.
Duchess of Malfy.
Ranulph Rookwood was for some moments so much stunned by the ghastly fate of Agnes, connected, as it appeared to be, with a supernatural summons similar to that which he imagined he had himself received, that he was incapable of stirring from the spot, or removing his gaze from the rigid features of the corpse, which, even in death, wore the strong impress of horror and despair. Through life he knew that Agnes, his own nurse, had been his mother's constant and faithful attendant; the unhesitating agent of her schemes, and it was to be feared, from the remorse she had exhibited, the participator of her crimes; and Ranulph felt, he knew not why, that in having witnessed her terrible end, he beheld the ultimate condition of his own parent. Conquering, not without great effort, the horror which had riveted him to the spot, he turned to look towards Eleanor. She had sunk upon a chair, a silent witness of the scene, Mrs. Mowbray and Dr. Small having, upon the first alarm given by Agnes respecting Lady Rookwood's departure from the house quitted the room to ascertain the truth of her statement. Ranulph immediately flew to Eleanor.