He said nothing, but his looks were more eloquent than words.
After he had contemplated the heartrending sight for some little time, he turned towards Joe, who silently led him from the spot.
“It is as you sed—he’s been foully murdered,” whispered Jamblin.
“Get thee back, my dear measter. We will bring the body home.”
“Home?” iterated Jamblin.
“Yes, sir, unless you wish it otherwise.”
“Poor Patty,” cried the farmer; “it will break her heart.”
“Better get home and leave the rest to us,” suggested Joe. “My young missus had best hear it from your lips.”
“You are right, I will return,” said the farmer. “I leave the arrangements to you—I dare not stop longer.”
He walked away with rapid strides, and Joe hastened back to his companions.