IN THE HOUSE OF DEATH
As soon as I had shaken off the first stunning effect of the news of the murder, I did what I could to calm Hagar, and then asked her to return with me to the house. But this induced a fresh paroxysm of alarm.
"No, no. They will take my life," she cried. "I dare not. I dare not."
"I will see that no one harms you," I assured her. "I am armed, and by this time they will have fled. There is no danger."
I prevailed in the end, and together we went back to the house. She shuddered violently as we entered, and clung to my arm, shrinking and shaking and glancing about her in terror at every step.
I knew where her father had kept his liquors, so I got her some brandy and made her drink a fairly stiff dose.
"Where are your servants?" I asked.
"One is ill, and the other has been away all the afternoon." Her lips trembled and her voice quivered as she replied.
"You must make an effort," I said sharply. "Tell me everything."
"I cannot think. I cannot think," she moaned distractedly, and laid her head on the table in an agony of wild grief.