“No; it is an awful reality, and we must take you in custody, on the charge of murder.”
In an instant the two officers handcuffed him.
He did not utter a word or move a muscle.
He was pale, and looked wildly about him as if in a dream.
“Poor Nance!” he sighed, thinking of his pretty persecuted sweetheart and intended wife. “Poor Nance, this news will break thy young heart!”
Bob hung his head.
The constables were sorrowful and silent.
Betty looked like a crazy woman, as she sat on the floor, sobbing.
Not a word was spoken.
All was still.