"Blood! Whose? Hah! whose blood? Whose but his--whose but the blood of my darling--my own Mathias?"
For a moment the thought completely unnerved her, and it was little short of a miracle that she kept from fainting.
But she fought bravely with the deathly horror stealing over her.
And kneeling on the hearth, she called up, yet in gentle voice, lest she should give the alarm--
"Mathias! Mathias, my own! Do you not know me? Mathias, I say!"
She listened--listened eagerly for a reply.
And presently it came--a dull, hollow moan, a cry of anguish that chilled the blood in her heart, that froze the very marrow in her bones.
"Mathias, darling Mathias! answer me for the love of mercy; I shall die else."
Another moan was heard.
Fainter and fainter even than the first.
Yet full of pent-up suffering.
A sound that told a whole tale of anguish.
"Mathias, come to me," she called again.
"Oh-h-h!"
A fearfully prolonged groan came down to her, louder than before, as if the sufferer had put all his remaining strength into the effort.
Then all was silent.
Eagerly she listened, straining forward to catch the faintest breath.
But the voice above was stilled for ever.
And yet the drip, drip, drip continued, and as she stretched forward beneath the chimney, she caught the drops upon her face.
Then she could no longer thrust back conviction.
With a wild cry of terror she drew back, and groped her way round the room towards the door.
Her hand rested upon the grated trap, and she pushed it back with all her force, crying aloud for help as she did so.
"Help, help!" she shouted with the energy of despair; "Mathias is dying."
But that wretched man would not trouble the authorities more--His last breath had been drawn as she stood there listening to those awesome sounds.
What could be the solution of this mystery!
This would be known soon now, for the sounds of footsteps were distinctly heard now in the long stone corridors of the prison.
The gaolers had given the alarm at once of the prisoner"s escape, and the outlets of the prison were guarded in all directions, while a party was sent to the cell to investigate the matter thoroughly.
At the head of this party was the governor himself.
The time had appeared ten times as long to the unhappy woman as it was in reality.
"Help, help! oh, help!" she cried.
At each effort she grew weaker and weaker. Her voice died away, and when they reached the door of the cell, they found her hanging by the bars of the grated window or trap more dead than alive.
"Show the light," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the governor.
And then, as the rays fell upon that face, pallid as the flesh of a corpse, save where the dark blood stains had settled, there was an involuntary exclamation of horror from all the beholders.
"Father of mercy," cried one of the men; "she has destroyed herself."
Such was the general idea.
She had committed suicide.
In this, however, they were speedily undeceived.
To burst open the door and rush into the cell was but the work of a moment.
At this the woman rallied a little and recovered herself.
"What is the matter?" asked the governor.
"The chimney!" gasped the woman faintly.
"The chimney! Speak--explain."
"His blood--Mathias"s," she said; "see the chimney. I dare not look."
Two of the men by now had approached the chimney, and lowering the light they carried, one of them discovered a dark ominous pool upon the hearth.
"Call the doctor; there is something more than meets the eye in this."
This order was promptly obeyed, and a surgeon was speedily in attendance. A mere cursory glance convinced the man of skill that the blood upon the woman"s face was not her own, and just as he arrived at the decision, drip, drip, drip it began again upon the hearth.
The men looked at each other half scared, and the governor himself was scarcely more self-possessed.
The surgeon alone retained his presence of mind.
s.n.a.t.c.hing a lamp from one of the men, he thrust it as far as his arm could reach up the chimney and looked earnestly up.
"As I thought!" he exclaimed.