“My goodness,” she growled, to herself, “seems like I’d only just dropped to sleep. Well,—I’ve got to get up. Hey, Martha, come along, my girl.”
But no response came from the other bed, and Hannah stepped across the room to give the girl an arousing shake.
“Why, heaven bless us, she ain’t here!” exclaimed the startled cook. “Now, don’t that beat all! Not content with rampoosin’ round the house in the night, she must be up and off early in the mornin’! She thinks she’s able to help them as has the detective work in charge! That Martha!”
Hannah proceeded to make her toilet and then descended the back stairs to the kitchen.
But on reaching the kitchen she gave voice to such a scream as could be heard by all the servants in the house, and even penetrated to the rooms occupied by Minna and her nurse.
“Whatever is the matter?” cried Fletcher, running out to the hall in her night clothes.
“Matter enough,” Hannah called back. “Will you get Mr Granniss, and tell him to come quick!”
Stunned by the cook’s voice and manner, the nurse hurriedly knocked at Rodney’s door, and he responded at once.
He was partly dressed, and finishing a hasty toilet, he ran down stairs.
He found Hannah, and Kelly, the butler, gazing at a huddled heap on the kitchen floor, which he saw at once, was the dead body of Martha, the waitress.