Cruel as the grave
deceptive. I will not deny that the woman was my enemy. Driven to
desperation, and in boiling blood, I might have been capable of doing
her a deadly mischief, but bravely and openly, as the sons and daughters
of my fiery race have done such things before this. But to go to her
chamber in the dead of night, and in darkness and secrecy--! No! I could
not have done that, if she had been ten times the enemy she was. Is
there one here who believes that the daughter of Bertram Berners could
be guilty of that or any other base deed?" she demanded, as her proud
glance swept around upon the faces of her assembled friends and
neighbors.
But their averted eyes too sorrowfully answered her question.
Then she turned to her husband and lowered her voice to an almost
imploring tone as she inquired:
"Lyon Berners, do YOU believe me guilty?"
He looked up, and their eyes met. If he had really believed her guilty
he did not now. He answered briefly and firmly:
"No, Sybil! Heaven knows that I do not. But oh! my dear wife! explain,
if you can, how that dagger came into your possession, how that blood
came upon your hands; and, above all, why this most unhappy lady should
have charged you with having murdered her."
"At your desire, and for the satisfaction of the few dear old friends
whom I see among this unbelieving crowd, the friends who would deeply
grieve if I should either do or suffer wrong, _I will_ speak. But if it
were not for you and for them, I would die before I would deign to
defend myself from a charge that is at once so atrocious and so
preposterous--so monstrous," said Sybil, turning a gaze full of haughty
defiance upon those who stood there before her face, and dared to
believe her guilty.
A stern voice spoke up from that crowd.
"Mr. Lyon Berners, attend to this. A lady lies murdered in your house.
By whom she has been so murdered we do not know. But I tell you that
every moment in which you delay in sending for the officers of justice
to investigate this affair, compromises you and me and all who stand by
and silently submit to this delay, as accessories, after the fact."
Lyon Berners turned towards the speaker, a grave and stern old man of
nearly eighty years, a retired judge, who had come to the mask ball
escorting his grand-daughters.
"An instant, Judge Basham. Pardon us, if in this dismay some things are
forgotten. The coroner shall be summoned immediately. Captain Pendleton,
will you oblige me by despatching a messenger to Coroner Taylor at
Blackville?" he then inquired, turning to the only friend upon whose
discretion he felt he could rely.
Captain Pendleton nodded acquiescence and intelligence, and left the
room, as if for the purpose specified.
"Now, dear Sybil, with Judge Basham's permission, give our friends the
explanation that you have promised them," said Lyon Berners
affectionately, and confidingly taking her hand and placing himself
beside her.
For all his anger as well as all her jealousy had been swept away in the
terrible tornado of this evening's events.
"The explanation that I promised _you_, and those who wish me well," she
said emphatically. And then her voice arose clear, firm, and distinct,
as she continued:
"I was in my chamber, which is immediately above that occupied by Mrs.
Blondelle. My chamber is approached by two ways, first by the front
passage and stairs, and secondly by a narrow staircase running up from
Mrs. Blondelle's room. And the door leading from her room up this
staircase and into mine, she has been in the habit of leaving open.
To-night, as I said, I was sitting in my chamber; from causes not
necessary to explain now and here, I was too much disturbed in mind to
think of retiring to rest, or even of undressing. I do not know how long
I had sat there, when I heard a piercing shriek from some one in the
room below. Instinctively I rushed down the communicating stairs and
into Mrs. Blondelle's room, and up to her bed, where I saw by the light
of the taper she was lying. Her eyes were closed, and I thought at first
that she had fainted from some fright until, almost at the same instant,
I saw this dagger--" here Sybil stooped and picked up the dagger that
she had dropped a few minutes before--"driven to its haft in her chest.
I drew it out. Instantly the blood from the opened wound spirted up,
covering my hand and sleeve with the accusing stains you see! With the
flowing of the blood her eyes flew wildly open! She gazed affrightedly
at me for an instant, and then with the last effort of her life, for
which terror lent her strength, she started up and fled shrieking to
this room. I, still holding the dagger that I had drawn from her bosom,
followed her here. And--you know the rest," said Sybil; and overcome
with excitement, she sank upon the nearest chair to rest.
Lyon Berners still held her hand.
Her story had evidently made a very great impression upon the company
present. But Lyon Berners suddenly exclaimed:
"Good Heavens! that lady's mistaken charge has put us all off the scent,
and allowed the murderer to escape. But it may not yet be too late! Some
clue may be left in her room by which we may trace the criminal! Come,
neighbors, and let us search the premises."
And Lyon Berners, leaving the shuddering women of the party in the room
with Sybil and the dead, and followed by all the men, went to search the
house and ground for traces of the assassin.
CHAPTER XX.
THE SEARCH.
My friends, I care not, (so much I am happy
Above a number,) if my actions
Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw them,
Envy and base opinion set against them,
To know my life so even.--SHAKSPEARE.
And first they went to Mrs. Blondelle's room, and carefully examined
every part of it, especially the fastenings of the doors and windows.
They all seemed to be right.
"I have a theory of this murder now!" said Mr. Berners, standing in the
middle of the room and speaking to the men who were with him.
"Humph! what is it?" coldly inquired old Judge Basham.
"It is this; that as Mrs. Blondelle was known to have possessed jewels
of great value, some miscreant came here with the intention to rob her
of them."
"Well, and what then?" asked the Judge.
"That this miscreant entered either by the outer door, or by one of
these windows, approached the bed of his victim, who, being awake and
seeing him, shrieked, either before or at the moment of receiving the
death wound, and then fainted."
"Humph! what next?" grunted the Judge.
"That first shriek brought my wife running to the rescue. At the sound
of her approach, of course the murderer turned and fled, escaping
through the outer door or window."
"An ingenious story, and a plausible explanation, Mr. Berners; but one,
I fear, that will never convince a jury, or satisfy the public,"
remarked Judge Basham.
"Nay, and it will na satisfy mysel' neither! It'll na do, gentlemen! The
murderer didna come through the outer door, nor the windows either! For
mysel' fastened them a' before I went to my bed! And yesel's found them
fastened when ye cam!" said the Scotch girl Janet, who had now entered
the room with the child in her arms.
"But he may have come through the door, my good girl," suggested Mr.
Berners, whose very blood seemed to freeze at this testimony of the
maid.
"Nay, nay, laird! that will na do either. The murderer could na hae come
by the outer door, for mysel' bolted it before I went to bed! And it was
still bolted when my puir leddy--Oh, my puir bonny leddy! oh! my puir
dear murdered mistress!" broke forth from the girl in sudden and violent
lamentations.
"Compose yourself, and tell us all about the bolted door," said Judge
Basham.
"Aweel, sir, the door was bolted by mysel', and bolted it stayed until
that puir leddy started out of her bed and tore the bolt back, and fled
away from before the face of her murderer! too late! oh, too late! for
she carried her death wound with her."
"So you see, Mr. Berners, your theory of the murder falls to pieces.
This girl's testimony proves that the murderer could not have entered
the room, from this floor," said Judge Basham.
"Then he _must_ have been concealed in the room," exclaimed Lyon,
desperately.
"Nay, nay! that will na do either, laird. Na mon was hid in the room.
Mysel' looked into all the closets, and under the bed, and up the
chimney, as I always do before I go to sleep. I could na sleep else.
Nay, nay, laird! The murderer came in neither by outer door nor window,
nor yet lay hidden in the room; for mysel' had fastened the outer door
and window, and searched the room before I slept. Nay, nay, laird! The
murderer cam by the only way left open--left open because we thought it
was safe--the way leading from Mistress Berners' room down to the
little stairs, and through this door which was not bolted," persisted
the Scotch girl.
Lyon Berners' heart seemed turned to ice by these last words.
Nevertheless he summoned fortitude to say:
"We must examine and see if there has been a robbery committed. If there
_has_ been one, then, of course, in the face of all this woman's
evidence, it will prove that the robber has done this foul deed."
"I do not see clearly that it will," objected Judge Basham. "However, we
will make the examination."
"Your honors need na tak the trouble. Mysel' saw to that too. See, the
bureau drawers and wardrobes are all fast locked as me leddy saw me lock
them hersel'. And the keys are safe in the pocket of my gown. Nay, nay,
lairds, naething is stolen," said Janet.
Nevertheless, Mr. Berners insisted on making the examination. So Janet
produced the keys and opened all the bureau drawers, boxes, wardrobes,
etc. All things were found in order. In the upper bureau drawer, caskets
of jewels, boxes of laces, rolls of bank-notes and other valuables were
found untouched. Nothing was missing.
In a word, no clue was found to the supposed murderer and robber; but,
on the other hand, every circumstance combined to fix the deed on Sybil.
Lyon Berners felt a faintness like death coming over him, and subduing
all his manhood. Unblenchingly, in his own person, he would have braved
any fate. But that his wife--his pure, high-toned, magnanimous Sybil,
should be caught up and ground to pieces by this horrible machinery of
circumstance and destiny! Was this a nightmare? His brain was reeling.
He felt that he might go mad. Like the drowning man, he caught at
straws. Turning to the Scotch girl, he demanded somewhat sternly:
"And where were you when your mistress was being murdered? where were
you, that you did not hasten to her assistance? You could not have been
far off--you must in fact have been in that little adjoining nursery."
"And sae I was, laird; and her first screech waked me up and garred me
grew sae till I couldna move, and didna move till I heard her screech
again and again, and saw her rin acrass the floor, and tear back the
bolt and flecht fra the room, followed close behind by Mistress Berners.
And thin mysel' sprang up wi' the bairn in me arms and rin after them,
thinking the de'il was behind me. Oh, me puir leddy! oh, me puir, bonny
leddy! oh! oh! oh!" wept and wailed the girl, dropping down on the floor
and throwing her apron over her head.
But the cries of the child from the adjoining nursery caused her to
start up, and run in there to comfort him.
The searchers left that room, and pursued their investigations
elsewhere. They went all through the house without finding any clue to
the mystery. They attempted to search the grounds, but the night was
pitch-dark, and the rain was falling fast. Finally, they returned to the
room of death.