"She cannot escape," was his ready conclusion; and he shouted to Sweetwater to go easy.
Sweetwater, who was in the act of setting foot upon the bridge down which she was running, slacked up at this command and presently stopped, for she had stopped herself and was looking back from a spot about halfway across, with the air of one willing, at last, to hear what they had to say.
"Who are you?" she cried. "And what do you want of me?"
"Are you not Madame Duclos?"
"Yes, I am Antoinette Duclos."
"Then you must know why you are wanted by the police authorities of New York. Your daughter—"
Her hand went up.
"I've nothing to say—nothing. Will you take that for your answer and let me go?"
"Alas, madam, we cannot!" spoke up Mr. Gryce in his calm, benevolent way. "Miss Duclos' death was of a nature demanding an inquest. Your testimony, hard as it may be for you to give it, is necessary for a righteous verdict. That is all we want—"
"It is too much!" she cried. And with a quick glance upward she took another step or two along the bridge till she had reached the broken rail; and before Sweetwater in his dismay could more than give a horrified bound in her direction, she had made the fatal leap and was gone from their sight into the gorge below.