No one was there.
She next looked into Master Robert’s old bed-room.
Next moment she screamed aloud, and fell staggering to the floor.
“Murdered! murdered!” she cried.
The two officers went in, and turned deadly pale, as they beheld the lifeless body lying ghastly and gory before them.
“Murdered! murdered!” screamed the servant, again and again, in piercing tones.
The dreadful sounds aroused Robert.
He leaped from the sofa, and rushed upstairs.
“Oh, here is Mr. Bolton; kind good gentleman; oh, tell us who did this?” said Betty, weeping.
“It is not Mr. Bolton,” said one of the officers; “it is Bob Bertram.”