Murder at Mansfield Park

seized it with fumbling fingers;
her suspicions were correct—there was a strong odour of laudanum.
    ‘My God!’ she cried. ‘What have you done—what have you done ?’
    She dragged him to an erect position, his head lolling over one shoulder, and saw, with terror, that his face was beginning to take on the same deep suffusion of blood that she had seen only a
few days before. This time, at least, she knew what to do. She moved first towards the bell to ring for assistance, before she recollected that the servants were all absent; she turned towards the
door, thinking to call for aid from her brother and Stornaway, but she never reached it. There was already someone standing there, with her hand to the door-handle, and a basket of cutlery over one
arm.
    ‘Oh Mrs Norris!’ cried Mary, running towards her. ‘Thank God that you are here! You must help me—I think Edmund has taken poison—he must have despaired in the face
of—but no matter—I fear I am not making myself very clear, but this is exactly what happened with poor Julia—we must act quickly —it may already be too
late!’
    Mrs Norris looked at her for a long moment, then shut the door quietly behind her.
    ‘You would do better to sit down and calm yourself, Miss Crawford. These theatrical performances of yours serve no useful purpose.’
    ‘But—did you not hear me?’ she stammered. ‘Your son has taken poison —we must procure him an emetic—I know what to do—and with your knowledge of
remedies you must have such a thing in the house—there is a chance—if we intervene at once that we may—’
    ‘We may what , Miss Crawford? Preserve his life so that you may tighten your grip yet further on his heart?’
    ‘I do not know what you mean—’
    ‘ You were more than half to blame,’ she said, advancing towards Mary. ‘If it had not been for you, and that blackguard brother of yours, they would be married by now.
Once Rushworth was out of the way I thought everything would return to how it should be, but oh no. Your contemptible brother resorted to the most vile arts, to the most depraved, wicked
contrivances to lure her away—’
    ‘But even if that were true,’ interrupted Mary, ‘it is not important now , not at this moment. We must act quickly to help Edmund or we will both lose him. Please,
Mrs Norris—he has taken laudanum—a very great deal of laudanum—’
    ‘I know exactly what he has taken, and I know better than you can do what the consequences will be.’
    Mary took a step back, hardly knowing what she did. It occurred to her, for the first time, that Mrs Norris did not look quite her usual self; there was an involuntary twitch under one eye, and
she seemed to be labouring to catch her breath.
    ‘It was you ,’ said Mary slowly, as the horrifying truth flooded her mind. ‘All of this—from the beginning—was your doing.’
    ‘You need not look so shocked, Miss Crawford. You are a woman of spirit yourself; indeed, it is the single admirable quality you possess. Do not try to pretend to me that you are
not capable of resolution and premeditation in the pursuit of what you desire. I have seen you at it every day for months.’
    ‘So it was you who tampered with Mr Gilbert’s cordial.’
    ‘I could not risk the girl waking up and accusing me. I could not be sure what she had seen. As soon as Gilbert told me that she might make a full recovery, I knew what I must
do.’
    ‘And you are now prepared to do the same to your own son ?’
    Mrs Norris’s face became hard and closed. ‘ He is no child of mine . And in any case, it will be better thus. I do not know what you said to him at the belvedere, but
when he returned he was like a man possessed. I tried to explain, but he would not listen . He was out of the house before I could stop him, and straight to that odious ruffian, Maddox. But I
need not tell you , that any sort of trial is completely out of the question. Even to contemplate that a son of my dear late husband’s—a Norris —might be paraded
through the streets of Northampton to the jeers of the common rabble—it is in every way unthinkable. This way it will all be hushed up, and soon everyone will have forgotten that any thing
ever happened.’
    ‘ Forgotten ? How can the Bertrams ever forget their daughter? How will any of us forget what happened to Fanny? And to resort to such violence —I saw what you did to her,
and the memory of it sickens me.’
    ‘As to that, I