hanically obeyed, and was led in silence to the side of a
bed, of which Eugenie suddenly drew the curtain, and displayed to her,
with a significant and reproachful gesture, the pale, rigid countenance
of her father's corpse, who had, it appears, suddenly expired. The shock
was terrible. Mrs. Rushton staggered back into the sitting-room, sick
and faint, sank into a chair, and presently asked for a glass of wine.
"We have no wine," replied Mademoiselle de Tourville; "but there is a
cordial in the next room which may be better for you." She was absent
about a minute, and on returning, presented Mrs. Rushton with a large
wine-glassful of liquid, which the deceased lady eagerly swallowed. The
taste was strange, but not unpleasant; and instantly afterwards Mrs.
Rushton left the house. When the carriage reached Harley Street, she was
found to be in a state of great prostration: powerful stimulants were
administered, but her life was beyond the reach of medicine. She
survived just long enough to depose to the foregoing particulars; upon
which statement Mademoiselle de Tourville had been arrested, and was now
in custody.

"You seem to have been very precipitate," I exclaimed as soon as the
solicitor had ceased speaking: "there appears to be as yet no proof that
the deceased lady died of other than natural causes."

"You are mistaken," rejoined Mr. Twyte. "There is no doubt on the subject
in the minds of the medical gentlemen, although the _post-mortem_
examination has not yet taken place. And, as if to put aside all doubt,
the bottle from which this Eugenie de Tourville admits she took the
cordial proves to contain distilled laurel-water, a deadly poison,
curiously colored and flavored."

Greatly perturbed, shocked, astonished as I was, my mind refused to
admit, even for a moment, the probability, hardly the possibility, of
Eugenie de Tourville's guilt. The reckless malignancy of spirit evinced
by so atrocious an act dwelt not, I was sure, within that beauteous
temple. The motives alleged to have actuated her--fear of a criminal
charge, admitted to be absurd, and desire to rid herself of an obstacle
to her marriage with Arthur Rushton--seemed to me altogether strained and
inapplicable. The desperation of unreasoning hate could alone have
prompted such a deed; for detection was inevitable, had, in truth, been
courted rather than attempted to be avoided.

My reasoning made no change in the conclusions of Mr. Twyte the attorney