Lucy. I know not—hearing his cries, I rushed into his room—he was not there, but his bed was steeped in blood.
Enter Grayling and Gilbert. L.
Gray. What cries are these? master Collins murdered! where is Gwinett?
Lucy. Alas! oh, heaven—he is—
Gray. Ah! let search be made.
Enter Gwinett. R.
Gray. He is the assassin.
Gwin. Villain! (rushes at Grayling—they struggle; Grayling wrenches a knife from Gwinett’s grasp; his coat files open, and the handkerchief stained with blood, falls out.)
Gray. Ah! this knife—
Lucy. It is my uncle’s—