Sharing Her Crime: A Novel. May Agnes Fleming

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СКАЧАТЬ about this – is there any reason given?"

      "Well, yes, madam," said the doctor, with evident reluctance.

      "And what is it, may I ask?"

      "I fear, madam, you will be offended."

      "'Sdeath! man, go on!" she broke in passionately. "What sayeth the far-seeing, all-wise world of him?"

      "'Tis said he has brought a wife with him from Europe, whom he wishes to conceal."

      "Ha! ha!" laughed the lady, scornfully. "Yes, I heard it too – a barefooted bog-trotter, forsooth! But 'tis false, doctor! false, I tell you! You must contradict the report everywhere you hear it. That any one should dare to say that my son – my proud, handsome Barry – would marry a potato-eating Biddy! Oh! but for my indignation I could laugh at the utter absurdity."

      But the fierce gleam of her eye, and the passionate clenching of her hand, bespoke her in anything but a laughing humor.

      "I would not for worlds this report should reach Lizzie Erliston," she said, somewhat more calmly. "And speaking of her brings me back to her sister. Doctor, Esther Oranmore lies in yonder room."

      He startled slightly, and glanced uneasily in the direction, but said nothing.

      "Doctor," continued Mrs. Oranmore, in a low, stern, impressive voice, while her piercing eyes seemed reading his very soul, "she must never live to see the sun rise again!"

      "Madam!" he exclaimed, recoiling suddenly.

      "You hear me, doctor, and you must obey. She must not live to see Christmas morning dawn."

      "Would you have me murder her?" he inquired, in a voice quivering between fear and horror.

      "If you will call it by that name, yes," she replied, still keeping her blazing eyes fixed immovably on his face. "She and her child must die."

      "Her child!"

      "Yes, come and see it. The night of its birth must be that of its death."

      She rose, and making a motion for him to follow her, led the way from the apartment. Opening a heavy oaken door, she ushered him into a dim bed-room, furnished with a lounge, a square bedstead, whose dark drapery gave it the appearance of a hearse, and a small table covered with bottles and glasses. Going to the lounge, she pointed to something wrapped in a large shawl. He bent down, and the faint wail of an infant met his ear.

      "She is yonder," said the lady, pointing to the bed; "examine these bottles; she will ask you for a drink, give it to her – you understand! Remember, you have promised." And before he could speak, she glided from the room.

      CHAPTER II.

      THE DEATH OF ESTHER

      "What shrieking spirit in that bloody room

      Its mortal frame hath violently quitted?

      Across the moonbeam, with a sudden gleam,

      A ghostly shadow flitted." – Hood.

      For a moment he stood still, stunned and bewildered. Understand? Yes, he understood her too well.

      He approached the bed, and softly drew back the heavy, dark curtains. Lying there, in a troubled sleep, lay a young girl, whose face was whiter than the pillow which supported her. Her long hair streamed in wild disorder over her shoulders, and added to the wanness of her pale face.

      She moaned and turned restlessly on her pillow, and opened a pair of large, wild eyes, and fixed them on the unprepossessing face bending over her. With lips and eyes opened with terror, she lay gazing, until he said, in as gentle a voice as he could assume;

      "Do not be afraid of me – I am the doctor. Can I do anything for you, child?"

      "Yes, yes," she replied, faintly; "give me a drink."

      He turned hastily toward the table, feeling so giddy he could scarcely stand. A tiny vial, containing a clear, colorless liquid, attracted his eye. He took it up and examined it, and setting his teeth hard together, poured its contents into a glass. Then filling it with water he approached the bed, and raising her head, pressed it to her lips. His hand trembled so he spilt it on the quilt. The young girl lifted her wild, troubled eyes, and fixed them on his face with a gaze so long and steady that his own fell beneath it.

      "Drink!" he said, hoarsely, still pressing it to her lips.

      Without a word she obeyed, draining it to the last drop. Then laying her back on the pillow, he drew the curtain and left the room.

      Mrs. Oranmore was sitting, as she had sat all the evening, stern and upright in her chair. She lifted her keen eyes as he entered, and encountered a face so pallid and ghastly that she almost started. Doctor Wiseman tottered rather than walked to a seat.

      "Well?" she said, inquiringly.

      "Well," he replied, hoarsely, "I have obeyed you."

      "That is well. But pray, Doctor Wiseman, take a glass of wine; you are positively trembling like a whipped schoolboy. Go to the sideboard; nay, do not hesitate; it is not poisoned."

      Her withering sneer did more toward reviving him than any wine could have done. His excitement was gradually cooling down beneath those calm, steady eyes, bent so contemptuously upon him.

      He drank a glass of wine, and resumed his seat before the fire, watching sullenly the dying embers.

      "Well, you have performed your task?"

      "I have, madam, and earned my reward."

      "Not quite, doctor; the infant is yet to be disposed of."

      "Must it die, too?"

      "Yes, but not here. You must remove it, in any way you please, but death is the safest, the surest."

      "And why not here?"

      "Because I do not wish it," she answered, haughtily; "that is enough for you, sirrah! You must take the child away to-night."

      "What shall I do with it?"

      "Dolt! blockhead! have you no brains?" she said, passionately. "Are you aware ten minutes' walk will bring you to the sea-side? Do you know the waves refuse nothing, and tell no tales? Never hesitate, man! You have gone too far to draw back. Think of the reward; one thousand dollars for ten minutes' work! Tush, doctor! I protest, you're trembling like a nervous girl."

      "Is it not enough to make one tremble?" retorted the doctor, roused to something like passion by her deriding tone; "two murders in one night – is that nothing?"

      "Pshaw! no – a sickly girl and a puling child more or less in the world is no great loss. Hark!" she added, rising suddenly, as a wild, piercing shriek of more than mortal agony broke from the room where Esther lay. "Did you hear that?"

      Hear it! The man's face was horribly ghastly and livid, as shriek after shriek, wild, piercing, and shrill with anguish, burst upon his ear. Great drops of perspiration stood on his brow – his teeth chattered as though by an ague fit, and he trembled so perceptibly that he was forced to grasp the chair for support.

      Not so the woman. She stood calm, listening with perfect composure to the agonizing cries, that were growing fainter and СКАЧАТЬ