Drip, drip, drip!
She looked down.
"I see, I see," she shudderingly exclaimed, "it is raining, and the rain is falling down the chimney. How foolish of me to get alarmed about nothing."
Now the light, we have said, shot across the hearth, and here it was that the drip, drip, drip, fell.
"Same as I thought."
As she muttered this to herself, she stretched forth her hand under the chimney, and the next drop fell upon it. It was not water.
No, imperfect as was the light then, it sufficed to show her that upon her hand was a curiously dark stain.
Raising it nearer to her eyes, she examined it eagerly.
Then she shuddered, and exclaimed in a voice of terror—"Blood!"
Yes, it was blood.