The wind died away, and the last brand had ceased to



THE BAY PATH. 353

crackle in the fire-place, and the clinking drops had for-
gotten to ring their changes in the water paU. The silence
grew awful, for death, violence, madness, and sleep were
gathered in one room.
The murderess clung to the little neck that had grown
long and lank within her grasp, until she began to feel the
chill that was creeping into her victim's frame, and then she
slowly and cautiously withdrew her hand and covered the
body as the nurse had left it covered. In an instant a wild
thi-Ul of exultation passed through her brain — a strange,
mad joy — whose manifestation in some manner she had no
power to repress, and she shivered the sUence with a laugh
so loud, and meaningless, and long continued, that it seemed
to the suddenly awakened sleepers more like the laugh of
a demon than of a human being. Hugh leaped to the bed-
side, and found her sitting up at the end of the bed, madly
laughing stiU. He no sooner appeared than Mary pointed
to the dead child, and went into renewed convulsions of
her terrible merriment.
" O Mary ! O God ! Oh ! what shaU I do ! what shall I
do !" exclaimed Hugh, bursting into a wUd cry of anguish,
as he dimly saw the child, and placed his hurried and
trembling hand upon its cold little face.
