Page:The Green Bag (1889–1914), Volume 21.pdf/418

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The Story of a Hangwoman

391

shoulders for the horse. The stranger papers contain? Unhappy, wretched rubbed down and foddered the horse, mother! she had slain her son! while she prepared his frugal meal, He had come back successful, rich which he insisted on her sharing. When beyond his expectations, to take her by he was refreshed and warmed she gave surprise, to make her sharer in his good him up her bed, saying she would sleep fortune. She did not recognize in the by the fire, and he unwillingly consented dark-bearded man the slender youth of to deprive her of her couch. He retired, years gone by. The temptation was irre and his regular breathing soon an sistible to his laughter-loving disposi nounced that he slept. tion; he would pass himself off as a She resumed her place by the hearth. grand gentleman until morning, then I know not if it was then, or at the first reveal himself. How they would laugh sight of the gold, that temptation to the together when they knew all. Alas! blackest treachery entered her mind— the morning never dawned for him! treachery that she now broodingly ma The woman's mind was unhinged by tured. It is painful to dissect a mind the appalling discovery. She shrieked like hers, cold, callous, covetous, soured and laughed aloud like a maniac, then by a hard life and disappointment, rushing wildly out into the cold gray longing for the ease from her daily light, by her awful cries drew terrified toil that money alone could bring, neighbors round her, to whom she yelled without moral sense, or fear—save she was a murderess, had killed her only of death; so let me pass as quickly child! They thought she was mad, or as may be this most shocking part of possessed of a devil, but one bolder than a true story. the rest having ventured to enter the She resolved to do away with the cottage rushed back horror-struck to unknown traveler. As far as she knew confirm her broken utterances. She was he was not an Irishman, certainly not a secured, tried, found guilty and con native of Roscommon; no one had ever demned. Roscommon was fixed for the seen him enter her cabin; she could execution. These were the good old unfasten the horse and drive it forth days when it was penal to steal a before dawn; the money she spent in sheep, to rob a coach, or take a horse, food could easily be accounted for by a so the cart that drew Betty to the pretended letter from America; she had gallows contained a goodly number of seen the purse filled to bursting with wretches, all her inferiors in guilt. Every gold; in short, she argued with herself, available foot of ground was thronged there was everything to gain and little by a yelling, hooting crowd, every win or no risk. "The woman who deliber dow looking on the jail was filled with ates is lost," says Rousseau, and so it sightseers, joking, laughing, chattering; proved in this instance: she murdered but when the tumbril stopped at the the unhappy man as he slept, possessed gallows foot silence fell like a pall, and herself of his papers and valuables, set the multitude held its breath. There the horse free, and sat by the dim rush was a long pause, officials hurried to light to examine the treasure. It was and fro. There were whispered consul now nearly dawn; was it the cold wind tations—what had happened? The news that blows before sunrise that chilled soon spread. The executioner was ab her to the bone and made her shiver as sent, he had been taken suddenly ill, if in an ague fit?—or—what did these and had sent an excuse at the last