MRS. OAKLEY ESCAPES, AND TAKES A DIFFERENT VIEW OF THINGS IN GENERAL. Mrs. Oakley nearly fainted herself at this juncture, but she felt that
her life was in jeopardy, and by a strong mental effort, such as she
could hardly have supposed herself capable of making, she sustained
herself, and preserved her senses. Lupin lay for some minutes quite insensible upon the floor, but he did
not lie long enough for Mrs. Oakley to take advantage of his temporary
swoon and leave the place. Had she perhaps been very prompt and
resolute, and self-possessed, she might have done so, but under the
whole of the circumstances, it was not to be supposed that such could be
her state of mind; so the slight opportunity, for, after all, it was
only a slight one, if one at all, was let slip by her. She was just beginning to ask herself if there was a chance of getting
away before Lupin should recover, when he uttered a hideous groan, and
moved slightly. After these indications of recovery, Mrs. Oakley was afraid to move; and
certainly, the slightest indication of her being otherwise than in the
state of insensibility which Lupin believed to be her condition, there
is very little doubt it would have been the signal for her death. The man who commits a murder for the attainment of any object of
importance to him, will not scruple to commit another to hide the first
deed from the eyes of the world. And now Lupin slowly rose to a sitting posture, and glared around him
for a few moments in silence. Then he spoke. "What is this?" he said. "What is all this? What is the meaning of all
this? Blood!--blood! Is this blood upon my hands? No--no--yes, it is--it
is. Ah! I recollect." He held his blood-stained hands to his eyes for a few moments, and then
as he withdrew them, he slowly turned his eyes to where the body lay. With a shudder he dragged himself along the floor further off from it,
gasping out as he did so--

"Off--off, horrible object!--off--off!" His distempered imagination, no doubt, pictured the body as following
him. Is there not, indeed, a prompt retribution in this world? "Off--off, I say! No further!--Not dead?--not dead yet? How much blood
have you in you now to shed? Off--off!" He reached the wall. He could get no further, and thus pursued still by
the same wild insane idea, he sprung to his feet, and uttering a loud
cry, he caught up a chair and held it out at arm's length before him,
shouting--

"Keep away--keep away! Keep off, I say--I--I did not do it. Who shall
say I did it? Who saw me do it?" He slowly dropped the chair, and then in a more composed voice he said--

"Hush! hush! I am mad to raise these cries. They will alarm the court. I
am mad--mad!" Mrs. Oakley had hoped that his ravings would reach some other ears then
hers, and that his apprehension, with the bleeding witness of his crime
close at hand, would follow as a thing of course, and then how gladly
would she have flown from her place of concealment, and cried out--

"He did it! I saw him! That is the man!" But such was not the case. Either he really did not call out loud enough
to make himself heard, or the inhabitants of the court were too much
accustomed to all sorts of sounds to pay any attention even to the
ravings of a murderer! No one came. No one even knocked at the chapel-door to know if anything
was amiss, and when she saw him calm, and in a measure self-possessed
again, her heart died within her. "Murder! murder!" he said; "I have done murder! Yes, I have steeped my
hands in blood--again--again! It is not the first time, but one does not
become familiar with murder. I did not feel as I feel now when I took a
life before. Oh, horror! horror!" He shook, but soon again recovered himself. "The vaults! The vaults!" he said. "They will hide the dead. Who will
look for this woman? What friends has she? Is there one in all the world
who cares if she be alive or dead? Not one. Is there one who will stir
six steps to find out what has become of her? Not one." Again he solaced himself with a draught of brandy, and then he set about
making his preparations for disposing of the dead body of his
slaughtered victim. From a drawer in the room he took a large sheet, and spread it upon the
floor. Then he kicked and pushed the dead body with his feet on to it,
and then he deliberately rolled it up round and round in the sheet, and
at each fold feeling that it was further removed from his sight, he
seemed to breathe more and more freely. He spoke in something like his old tones. "That will do--that will do. The vaults will be the place. Was there
ever such a cunning place for murder to be done in as a chapel, with its
ready receptacles of the dead beneath it? There let her rot. She will
never come up in judgment against me from there. It is done now. The
deed that I often thought of doing, and yet never had the courage, nor
the opportunity at the same time, to accomplish until to-night. The
vaults--the vaults. Ay, the vaults!" He lit a lantern that he took from the cupboard, and then he opened the
door that communicated with the staircase terminating in the chapel. He
listened as though he fancied that some one might be below listening to
the deed of blood above. "All is still," he muttered, "so very still. It is providential. It is
the will of Heaven that this woman should die to night, and after all I
am but the instrument of its decrees--nothing more. That is comforting." He now dragged the body to the door he had opened, but he did not carry
it. When he got it there he overbalanced it, and let it fall down. Mrs.
Oakley, even from where she was, heard the horrible smash with which it
reached the bottom of the stairs. Lupin followed with the lantern. And now it would seem as if another opportunity had presented itself to
Mrs. Oakley to escape. The staircase down which Lupin had gone
communicated with the chapel. It was another flight that led to the
ordinary door through which any one passed who might be coming to the
private part of the house. That staircase of course she expected to
reach without going through the room in which the murder was committed,
as her room and the adjoining one both opened upon its landing as well
as into each other. Mrs. Oakley slowly rose from her knees. "God help us," she said, "and give me strength to make an attempt to
leave this frightful place. There will surely be time while Lupin is in
the vaults. Oh, yes, there will surely be time." She tottered along with as little strength as though she had been lying
for weeks upon a bed of sickness, so completely had she been unnerved by
what she had seen. She touched the handle of the door. Even that was support. And then, she
turned it. The door did not open. It was locked! Mrs. Oakley felt as if at that moment all her chance of escape was gone. She felt as though she were given over by providence to Lupin to be
murdered.