In the midst of the commotion caused by this discovery a voice broke out
abruptly. It was that of Richard Houseman. His journey had been in vain.
His daughter was dead. His appearance revealed all too plainly to what
source he had flown for consolation.

"What do ye here, fools?" he cried, reeling forward. "Ha! Human bones!
And whose may they be, think ye?"

There were in the crowd those who remembered the disappearance which had
so surprised them years before, and more than one repeated the name of
"Daniel Clarke."

"Clarke's bones!" exclaimed Houseman. "Ha, ha! They are no more Clarke's
than mine!"

At this moment Walter stepped forward.

"Behold!" he cried, in a ringing voice, vibrant with emotion--"behold
the murderer!"

Pale, confused, conscience-stricken, the bewilderment of intoxication
mingling with that of fear, Houseman gasped out that if they wanted the
bones of Clarke they should search St. Robert's Cave. And in the place
he named they found at last the unhallowed burial-place of the murdered
dead.

But Houseman, now roused by a sense of personal danger, denied that he
was the guilty man. Drawing his breath hard, and setting his teeth as
with steeled determination, he cried, "The murderer is Eugene Aram!"