“Certainly,” was his immediate answer, without testifying any confusion—“I will fetch my hat.” He went into the house for a moment.
“Do you suspect these people?” whispered Lord Chester.
“Not suspect,” said I, “but doubt.”
We proceeded down the avenue: “Where is Mr. Dawson?” said I to Thornton.
“Oh, within!” answered Thornton.
“Shall I fetch him?”
“Do,” was my brief reply.
Thornton was absent some minutes; when he re-appeared, Dawson was following him. “Poor fellow,” said he to me in a low tone—“he was so shocked by the sight, that he is still all in a panic; besides, as you will see, he is half drunk still.”
I made no answer, but looked narrowly at Dawson; he was evidently, as Thornton said, greatly intoxicated: his eyes swam, and his feet staggered as he approached us; yet, through all the natural effects of drunkenness, he seemed nervous and frightened. This, however, might be the natural, and consequently innocent effect, of the mere sight of an object so full of horror; and, accordingly, I laid little stress upon it.
We reached the fatal spot: the body seemed perfectly unmoved. “Why,” said I, apart to Thornton, while all the rest were crowding fearfully round the corpse—“why did you not take the body within?”