Dead! There is blood on the white dress, blood on the blue shawl,
blood on Ellen's hand, blood trickling in a small red stream from
under the left breast. Ethel, Lady Catheron, lies there before her in
the moonlight stone dead--foully murdered.




CHAPTER VII.

IN THE NURSERY.


She stands for a moment paralyzed--struck dumb by a horror too great
for word or cry. Then she rushes to the door, along the passages, into
the midst of the startled household like a mad creature, shrieking
that one most awful word, "Murder!"

They flock around her, they catch hold of her, and keep her still by
main force. They ask her questions, but she only screams still that
ghastly word, "Murder!"

"_Who_ is murdered? Where--what do you mean? Good Lord! young woman,"
cries Mr. Hooper, the butler, giving her a shake, "do come out of
these hysterics if you can, and speak! _Who's_ murdered?"

"My lady! Oh, my lady! my lady! my lady!"

She is like a creature distraught. There is blood on her right hand;
she sees it, and with a gasping cry at the grisly sight, and before