He laid the fair young head on his breast; he soothed and caressed her as he would have soothed a frightened child; and then Lady Vaughan insisted that she was tired and must go to rest. They did not notice that as she left the room she took with her the paper Sir Arthur had been reading.
[CHAPTER XVII.]
Alone at last; and the ghastly fear, the terrible dread, overwhelmed Hyacinth. The paper dropped from her hands, and she fell, with a low, shuddering cry, on her knees. The news was too cruel, too dreadful, too horrible. She moaned rather than cried—"Oh, merciful Heaven, let me die! let me die!"
The fear that was upon her was far more trying than any physical anguish. Who could have recognized her crouching there with fever in her brain, with anguish in her heart, as the beautiful brilliant girl who quitted that same room a few hours since, radiant with love and hope?
Then she took up the paper, and with wild, distended eyes read this paragraph:
"Shocking Murder at Leybridge.—The whole of this district has been thrown into the greatest consternation by the discovery of a terrible murder that has been committed in the pleasant meadows near the railway station. On Thursday morning as John Dean, a laborer, was going to his work, his attention was attracted by something lying under the hedge in the field known as Lime Meadow. He found, on inspection, that it was the body of a woman who had been most cruelly murdered. He hastened to the police station and gave information to Inspector Henderson. The inspector went at once to the spot with two of his men. The woman had been dead, it was supposed, over two hours; there were signs of a violent struggle; and she had evidently tried hard to defend herself. At first no clew could be discovered as to her identity or that of her murderer; but it was seen that she held a handkerchief tightly clinched in her hands. With some difficulty it was taken away, and the name 'Claude Lennox' was found upon it. Further search brought to light a folded paper, on which the address of Mr. Lennox was written in full. The woman's clothes were marked, 'Anna Barratt.' She was quite a stranger to the neighborhood, and no one remembers to have seen her before. The police immediately began to make inquiries, the result of which was the apprehension of Claude Lennox on the charge of wilful murder. He has been brought before the magistrates at Ashton, and the evidence given is very strong against him. Mr. Lennox is the nephew of Colonel Lennox, of Ashton Park; and it appears that, much to the colonel's anger and annoyance, the young gentleman was absent all Wednesday night. A porter at Leybridge Station swears to having seen Mr. Lennox in company with some woman—whose features he did not see—quite early on Thursday morning. He noticed him particularly, because Mr. Lennox seemed anxious that his companion should escape all observation. He saw them walking toward the meadow, but not having seen the woman's face, could not identify her. Thomas Hannan, a signalman, also swore to the same facts. Robert Cliffe, a day-laborer, deposed that, as he was going to work early on Thursday morning, he saw the accused walking alone and hurriedly toward the park. He thought the gentleman looked agitated. The prisoner admitted at once that the handkerchief and folded paper containing the address were his, but refused to explain how they came into the possession of the deceased. He swore that he was not guilty of the murder, and that the woman was a stranger to him. When asked to state where he had been during the night, he declined. When asked to prove an alibi—if he could bring any witnesses to prove where he had been—he replied abruptly that it was impossible—he could not do it. The magistrates have committed him for trial at the Loadstone assizes, and unless he can give some satisfactory information as to where he passed the night of Wednesday, the weight of circumstantial evidence will tell strongly against him. The refusal of Mr. Lennox to make any exculpatory statement has created a great sensation in the neighborhood. The assizes commences on the twenty-third of July."
The paper fell from Hyacinth's trembling hands, and a terrible moan came from her lips. Clear as the daylight the incidents of that morning rose before her in their full horror.
Whatever happened, cost what it would, she must go—she must clear Claude. No one in the wide world knew that he was innocent, no one could clear him but herself. Dear Heaven, how plainly the whole scene rose before her! The dewy meadows lying so still and calm in the half light—the woman's pale face and bruised hand! How well she remembered wrapping Claude's handkerchief round it. How kind and compassionate Claude had been to her!