pointed to Gabrielle—"is to be allowed to go
at large?"

"Most unquestionably," replied both the
medical authorities, speaking together. "How
can you ask? There is nothing against her, at
present."

"'Nothing against her?' I tell you there is
my word against her. I accuse her—  here, before
you all! You know," continued the infuriated
woman, turning to the doctor—" you know on
what grounds I speak, and on those grounds I
denounce this woman as guilty of having caused
my mistress's death."

No person, of those present, heard those
dreadful words unmoved. Both the doctors
showed, by their faces and by gesture as well,
that even to them, inured to scenes of wretchedness,
this was no common case. For Gabrielle,
a deadly sickness came upon her, and, with a
faint cry, so weak as to be hardly audible, she
clung to Gilbert for support; while, as to
Penmore himself, all other feeling now seemed to be
utterly lost and merged in one of furious and
unmitigated indignation.

"What!" he cried; " is this to be allowed?
Is this abominable and shameless woman to stand
here before me, and in my own house accuse my
own wife of a crime, which, as connected with
her, I cannot even bring myself to name? Have
I no remedy but slow recourse to processes for
libel and such creeping means of vengeance?
Because she is a woman, I can use no force. I
cannot tear out the very tongue with which she
lies against this innocent. Oh! it is horrible to
be so tied and bound, to stand by, inactive, and
listen to such words. But what folly is this?"
he said, checking himself the next moment. "To
treat this matter seriously, even for a moment,
is nothing less than folly of the wildest kind.
The woman is mad. Mad with grief—mad with
hatred of my wife—  which I could see she always
entertained. Yes, she is mad, but it is a madness
with which I cannot bear that my wife
should come in contact. Can she not be removed,
sir?" he continued, addressing Dr. Giles.

"Nothing shall make me stir from this place,"
said this terrible woman, speaking for herself,
"till I have seen her in the way of being brought
to justice."

"I am afraid," said Doctor Giles, " that whatever
may be your own convictions as to this
person's state of mind, her accusations have been
so serious, and she has altogether gone so far in
what she has asserted, that it will be necessary
for all parties concerned that she should have a
hearing, and that her story should be pronounced
upon by some one who has the right to speak."

"And this you may rely on," the woman went
on, " in spite of all your words of scorn and talking
about madness, that when once I have got a
hearing, it will be long enough before you hear
the last of what I have to say. I tell you that
your wife—and if she were twenty times your
wife, or the highest lady in the land, it could
make no difference—I tell you she is guilty.
Why, look," continued the illiterate wretch, "at
what happened last night—she carrying up my
mistress's food the last thing, and the poor
angel dead in the morning. Ah! you may well
shrink, young woman, but you'll shrink more yet
before I've done-- I can tell you."

It was impossible that this woman's denunciations
should be allowed to go on. Doctor
Giles came forward now, and, speaking to Jane
Cantanker, said:

"I think that it will be better for you to keep
what you have to say till to-morrow, when you
are certain of a hearing. You can do no good by
speaking now."

The good doctor was greatly distressed at the
scene in which he was perforce taking part, and
he felt that if any additional pain could be spared
to this lady and gentleman—for such he
perceived them to be—such vexation ought certainly
to be averted. Mr. and Mrs. Penmore
should be left alone at this time, he thought, to
bear this trouble together.

"Come with me," he said, addressing the relentless
woman once more. " I have some additional
questions of importance which I should like to
ask you."

"Begging your pardon, sir, I will answer your
questions at another time. What I have to do now
is to see that this person is brought to justice."

Gilbert felt his wife's arm tremble as these
horrid words were spoken. It maddened him to
hear them, and to think that it was possible that
they could be said in earnest.

"I say that I will not have this," he cried.
"If this madness is to have its way—if this
woman is to be allowed to speak words which,
if the subject were less terrible, one might almost
smile at—at least it shall not be here in my own
house, but elsewhere, and before some fitly
constituted tribunal. In this house, at least, I am
the master. I bid her leave this room, and if
she refuses, it being impossible to use force, I at
least will leave it, and this lady with me, as I do
not choose that my wife should any longer be
brought in contact with a wretch who could
speak such words against her."

"Which way is it to be?" continued Penmore,
after waiting a moment. "Is she to go or are
we?"

The two doctors both came forward, and in
earnest accents sought to turn this iron woman
from her purpose.

She did not stir, however, and Gilbert, after
giving her such time as he deemed sufficient,
drew his wife's arm through his, and without
another word passed swiftly from the room.

It was some time after they had got away from
the room below, before either Gilbert or his wife
uttered a word. Strange and terrible thoughts
filled the minds of both of them; a new and
dreadful impression was developing itself slowly.
It was as if a scroll on which some fearful thing
was written, was being unrolled gradually before
their terror-stricken eyes. What was written
on that scroll was confused and unmeaning at