Part 57 (2/2)
Mad with pa.s.sion, she crushed it under the heel of her tiny satin shoe.
Ignominious defeat, combined with the desertion of the only man for whom she entertained a spark of genuine affection, had completely corroded her soul. At first she thought only of revenge, and strode up and down muttering fearful imprecations upon those who had been the cause of her downfall. With a sudden ebullition of pa.s.sion she unclasped the bracelet from her wrist, and flinging it down, treated it in the same manner as the other ornament. Then hooking her thin white fingers in the lace of her bodice, she tore it to shreds, casting the fragments heedlessly about her.
She caught sight of her reflection in a mirror; a shudder pa.s.sed over her graceful form, and her slim hands trembled violently.
”_Dieu_!” she wailed. ”What shall I do? Enemies on every side await their opportunity to overthrow me, and jeer at my discomfiture! Ah!
what a fate!”
Pale as the gown she wore, she reeled, and would have fallen had she not clutched the table for support.
Her pa.s.sion was succeeded by blank, poignant despair. The bloodless lips were compressed firmly as she made a vain effort to shake off the terrible fear which had taken possession of her; but the soft, smooth brow contracted, and the handsome face became dark and gloomy. She could not put away the black forebodings; they clung to her; they clutched her mind with a desperate grasp, and she was powerless to resist them. Her whole frame shook with a feverish tremor, for she was conscious that fate was against her, and that the spirit of evil was hovering about her ready to drag her down to destruction.
Her lips quivered, but she stood motionless and mute in contemplation.
The strains of a dreamy waltz penetrating into the room jarred upon her nerves. She covered her ears with her hands to shut out the sound of gaiety, and waited patiently until it had ceased.
”If I leave here what will be my future?” she asked aloud in desperation. ”I can do nothing--nothing. Hugh knows all--everything!
I am already branded as a murderess--a woman who should be hunted down and delivered to justice! And what then? Suppose that cursed Gabrielle gave me up to the police?” She paused, and drew a long breath before continuing.
”La Roquette! The _lunette_!” she cried hoa.r.s.ely. ”I see them! I know how justice would punish me, and how my enemies, those who are jealous of my success, would triumph. No--no! _Dieu_! I couldn't bear it-- I--!”
A deep-drawn sob burst from her, and she hid her agonised face in her hands.
The stillness was only broken by the ticking of the tiny Dresden dock, the chimes of which, as it struck the hour, mingled with the sighs of the dejected woman.--Presently she raised her blanched face.
”Death!” she exclaimed in a husky whisper, looking half fearfully around, as if startled at the sound of her own voice. ”Nothing else remains for me. There is no hope--no mercy--I am guilty--_guilty_!
Sooner or later death will be the punishment of my crime, so why not now? If I escape from here, I shall only plunge into poverty and be tracked by the bloodhounds of the law. Ah! no! _Sapristi_! I prefer death!” With wild, wearied eyes she gazed slowly around, bewildered by her own suggestion.
”Yet am I so much to blame after all?” she soliloquised. ”It was Victor's suggestion--he taught me to commit robbery. He compelled me to commit murder. Dazzled by the prospect of wealth and luxury he held constantly before my eyes, I submitted. He made me his cat's-paw to perpetrate crimes which he was too great a coward to commit himself, and when he found himself cornered he exposed me in order to deprive me of liberty and life. Had I never met the mean, contemptible scoundrel, I should have led as blameless a life as ordinary women, and remained the dutiful wife of Percy Willoughby, notwithstanding his ill-treatment.”
Across her aching forehead she pa.s.sed her hand quickly, brus.h.i.+ng her hair back from her face.
”Bah!” she continued, with bitterness. ”What's the use of thinking of things as they might have been? Victor's companions.h.i.+p made me callous, and I stained my hands with crime in order to gain riches. I abandoned every womanly feeling and instinct, and carried out the plot without regard for those who stood in my way. Therefore, there are no extenuating circ.u.mstances. No. I staked my life upon the game, but, my usual luck having deserted me, I have lost--lost irretrievably. I must pay.”
Her frenzy of pa.s.sion had been succeeded by a calm thoughtful mood, and she was silently reviewing her past, recognising for the first time how vile and hideous were her sins.
”G.o.d,” she cried, in an intense, pitiful voice, ”I would give all-- everything I possess--if it were possible to atone--if I could obtain Hugh's forgiveness! He loved me so dearly, lavished all his affection and money upon me, and closed his ears to the truth, which he thought calumnies, yet--I killed his brother--stabbed him--afterwards sending Hugh himself to penal servitude. And for what? Merely for my own aggrandis.e.m.e.nt--in order that I might become mistress of this place, and live in luxury and ease. It was a foul, horrible plot,” she added, shuddering. ”Repentance is useless, forgiveness hopeless; I can only-- die--_die_!”
As she uttered these words her eyes fell upon the davenport which stood on the opposite side of the room. A thought suddenly occurred to her.
She crossed the boudoir, and, seating herself, took up a pen and commenced to write rapidly.
The letter was long and rambling, devoid of any endearing terms. It commenced with an admission of her marriage with Willoughby and the subsequent divorce, followed by a full confession of the murder of Douglas Trethowen. She wrote:
_I was walking along Pall Mall alone, about ten o'clock at night, when I encountered him, not by accident but by design. He quickly recognised me, and appeared pleased that we had met. For nearly a quarter of an hour we stood talking, until he told me he had an appointment at Liverpool Street Station. At that moment an omnibus slackened speed opposite us to allow two men to alight. I suggested we should go to the City together in the 'bus, and we entered it. There was no conductor, and we were alone. Scarcely had we entered the vehicle when his manner suddenly changed, and he spoke of the affair of the Boulevard Haussmann.
His att.i.tude was threatening, and he said that now I was there with him without any chance of escape, he intended to give me up to the police as a murderess when the conveyance arrived at its destination. I grew frightened, for I was convinced from his manner that he meant what he said. It was not by accident, but by intention, that I had met him, and I was fully prepared. I saw the time had come, and, drawing from my pocket the handkerchief I had prepared, I soon quieted him. Then I struck the blow. I drove the knife in hard; it killed him. It all happened in a few moments, and while the omnibus was still in motion and about to enter the Strand I jumped out quickly and made my escape_.
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