The latter part of the name was completely obliterated by a blot of blood.
While the young engineer stood in an attitude of shocked irresolution, a step sounded on the gravel behind him.
He turned to look into the face of a young man whose countenance showed resemblance to the dead girl.
"My God! what is this?"
The new-comer darted forward, gazed for a moment into the dead face of poor Victoria, then staggered back, clutching the arm of August Bordine to save himself from falling.
"Suicide, I fear," answered Bordine for lack of words.
"Suicide! My soul, is Victoria dead?"
Then the last comer knelt down beside the prostrate girl, and lifted her golden head to his knee.
His cries and moans were heartrending.
In vain Bordine tried to soothe the young man, but he found that a brother's grief was beyond assuagement.