The two men stood in sore perplexity for a time that seemed an hour to me, but may have been a couple of minutes, and then the elder one, the Captain, said:
“We’d better look through the other rooms.”
“As you please,” said his companion, and he turned away while the Captain picked up the lamp.
“I can’t understand it,” he muttered.
“Perhaps we’d better not try,” said Loixoff. As he spoke he started, and I saw him stare at the spot where the Countess lay. “By God! Captain, there’s the woman, dead!”
They crossed the room together, and while the Captain held the lamp down close to the body Loixoff examined it.
“It’s that fiend, Anna Bokara,” he cried. “Now we know what that scream meant.”
“Is she dead?”
“Yes; here’s a knife thrust right through her heart. There’s no pulse,” he added after a pause. “Is this his work?”
“It must be,” returned the Captain; and I saw them look meaningly into each other’s eyes.