Van made a move to spring through the window after him, but a faint voice coming from the bed checked him.
"Van, c-c-come h-e-re!"
The next moment the boy was at the side of the bed, where his uncle lay in a pool of blood, breathing heavily.
"Van, I have been murdered!" exclaimed Ralph Vincent, faintly.
The look on his uncle's face told Van that what he said was true.
Just at that moment an old man called Ben, who was the only male servant about the house, came rushing in the room in a terrified manner.
"Oh, Lord!" he exclaimed, wildly. "Whatever has happened, Mr. Vincent?"
"Silence, Ben!" spoke up the dying man. "Van, hand me a glass of brandy and I will try and describe my murderer so that you may hunt him down and bring him to justice."
Half bewildered, Van did as he was directed, while the servant strove to quench the blood that was flowing from a ghastly wound in his employer's side.
Instead of making him rally, the glass of brandy set the dying man to coughing, and when the spell ceased he was so weak that he could not speak above a whisper.