Then the old woman asked the coachman to go up and see if anything
was the matter with the reverend gentleman. The man returned in
a few moments, pale and trembling in every limb and apparently
struck dumb by fright. He motioned the women to follow him, and
all three crept up the stairs. The coachman led them first to the
pastor's bed, which was untouched, and then to the pool of blood
in his study. The sight of the latter frightened the servants so
much that they did not notice at first that there was no sign of
the pastor himself, whom they now knew must have been murdered.
When they finally came to themselves sufficiently to take some
action, the man hurried off to call the magistrate, and Liska ran
to the asylum to fetch the old doctor; the pastor's intimate friend.
The aged housekeeper, trembling in fear, crept back to her own room
and sat there waiting the return of the others.

This was the story of the early morning as told by the three
servants, who had already given their report in much the same words
to the Count on his arrival and also to the magistrate. There was
no reason to doubt the words of either the old housekeeper or of
Janos, the coachman, who had served for more than twenty years in
the rectory and whose fidelity was known. The girl Liska was
scarcely eighteen, and her round childish face and big eyes dimmed
with tears, corroborated her story. When they had told Muller all
they knew, the detective sat stroking, his chin, and looking
thoughtfully at the floor. Then he raised his head and said, in a
tone of calm friendliness: "Well, good friends, this will do for
to-night. Now, if you will kindly give me a bite to eat and a
glass of some light wine, I'd be very thankful. I have had no
food since early this morning."