Iris took the soothing draught, and fell, for a few moments, into a troubled slumber. But almost immediately she roused herself and sat bolt upright.
"I didn't kill her!" she said, her large dark eyes burning into Miss Darrel's own.
"No, no, dear, you didn't kill her. Never mind that now. We'll find it all out in good time."
"I don't want it found out! It must not be found out! Won't you take away that detective man? He knows too much—oh, yes, he knows too much!"
"Hush, dear, please don't make any disturbance now. They're taking your aunt away."
"Are they?" and suddenly Iris calmed herself, and stood up, quite still and composed. "Let me see," she said; "no, I don't want to go down. I want to look out of the windows."
Kneeling at the front window of Miss Darrel's room, in utter silence, Iris watched the bearers take the casket out of the door.
"Poor Aunt Ursula," she whispered softly, "I did love you. I'm sorry I didn't show it more. I wish I had been less impatient. But I will avenge your death. I didn't think I could, but I must—I know I must, and I will do it. I promise you, Aunt Ursula—I vow it!"
"Who killed her?" Miss Darrel spoke softly, and in an awed tone.
"I can't tell you. But I—I am the avenger!"