, I long to _know_, to solve the mystery. Come, let me make an
end, I will chance it. Spirits like my own wear their life only while
it does not gall them; if it begins to fret, they cast it from them
like a half-worn dress, scorning to wrap it round them till it drops
away in rags."

She raised the glass.

"How lonely this place is, and how still, and yet it may well be that
there are millions round me watching what I do. Why does he come into
my mind now, that good man, and the child I bore him? Shall I see them
presently? Will they crush me with their reproaches? And--have my
nerves broken down?--Is it fancy, or does that girl's pale face, with
warning in her eyes, float between me and the wall? Well, I will drink
to her, for her mind could even overtop my own. She was, at least, my
equal, and I have driven her mad! Let me taste this stuff."

Lifting the glass to her lips, she drank a little, and set it down.
The effect was almost magical. Her eyes blazed, a new beauty bloomed
upon her cheek, her whole grand presence seemed to gain in majesty.
The quick drug for a moment burnt away the curtain between the seen
and the unseen, and yet left her living.

"Ah," she cried, in the silence of the room, "how it runs along my
veins; I hear the rushing of the stars, I see strange worlds, my soul
leaps through infinite spaces, the white light of immortality strikes
upon my eyes and blinds me. Come, life unending, I have conquered
death."

Seizing the poison, she swallowed what remained of it, and dashed the
glass down beside her. Then she fell heavily on her face, once she
struggled to her knees, then fell again, and lay still.

CHAPTER LXI

After throwing George Caresfoot into the bramble-bush, Arthur walked
steadily back to the inn, where he arrived, quite composed in manner,
at about half-past seven. Old Sam, the ostler, was in the yard,
washing a trap. He went up to him, and asked when the next train
started for London.

"There is one as leaves Roxham at nine o'clock, sir, and an uncommon
fast one, I'm told. But you bean't a-going yet, be you, sir?"

"Yes, have the gig ready in time to catch the train."

"Very good, sir. Been to the fire, I suppose sir?" he went on, dimly
perceiving that Arthur's clothes were torn. "It were a fine place, it
wore, and it did blaze right beautiful."

"No; what fire?"

"Bless me, sir, didn't you see it last night?--why, Isleworth Hall, to
be sur