"Oh! my child, such dreadful news! Such a frightful tragedy!"
Pale and panting, Miss Patty ran down the arcade, and stumbled over a barricade of potted plants on the threshold of the door.
"What is the matter? Is it my Uncle, or—or Lennox?"
Leo sprang to her feet, and caught her aunt's arm.
"Horrible! horrible! General Darrington was robbed, and then most brutally murdered last night!"
"Murdered! Can it be possible? Murdered—by whom?"
"How should I know? The whole town is wild about it. My brother is at Elm Bluff, with the body, and I shall take the carriage and drive over there at once. Dear me; I am so nervous I can't stand still, and my teeth chatter like a pair of castanets."
"Perhaps there may be some mistake. How did you hear it?"
"Your Uncle Mitchell sent a boy to tell me why he was detained. There has been a coroner's inquest, and of course, as an old and intimate friend of General Darrington's, Mitchell feels he must do all he can. Poor old gentleman! So proud and aristocratic! To be murdered in his own house, like any common pauper! Positively it makes me sick. May the Lord have mercy on his soul."
"Amen!" murmured Leo.