* * * * * *


As the young man gained the middle of the path which led to the Heath,
he met Sir Richard returning from the village. It was no part of his plan
to seek an interview with the man whom his mother had so deeply wronged,
and he would have slunk past in the gloom; but seeing him thus alone
returning to a desolated home, the prodigal was tempted to utter
some words of farewell and of regret. To his astonishment, however,
Sir Richard passed swiftly on, with body bent forward as one in the act
of falling, and with eyes unconscious of surroundings, staring straight
into the distance. Half-terrified at this strange appearance,
Richard hurried onward, and at a turn of the path stumbled upon something
which horribly accounted for the curious action of the old man.
A dead body lay upon its face in the heather; beside it was
a heavy riding whip stained at the handle with blood, and
an open pocket-book. Richard took up the book, and read, in gold letters
on the cover, "Lord Bellasis."

The unhappy young man knelt down beside the body and raised it.
The skull had been fractured by a blow, but it seemed that life yet lingered.
Overcome with horror--for he could not doubt but that
his mother's worst fears had been realized--Richard knelt there
holding his murdered father in his arms, waiting until the murderer,
whose name he bore, should have placed himself beyond pursuit.
It seemed an hour to his excited fancy before he saw a light pass
along the front of the house he had quitted, and knew that Sir Richard
had safely reached his chamber. With some bewildered intention
of summoning aid, he left the body and made towards the town.