"The deuce take it!" he cried, covering his face with his hands.
"Shall I read you the particulars?" Campbell asked, taking the paper. Cyril nodded assent.
"'The body of Lord Wilmersley was found at seven o'clock this morning floating in the swimming bath at Geralton. It was at first thought that death had been caused by drowning, but on examination, a bullet wound was discovered over the heart. Search for the pistol with which the crime was committed has so far proved fruitless. The corpse was dressed in a long, Eastern garment frequently worn by the deceased. Lady Wilmersley's bedroom, which adjoins the swimming bath, was empty. The bed had not been slept in. A hurried search of the castle and grounds was at once made, but no trace of her ladyship has been discovered. It is feared that she also has been murdered and her body thrown into the lake, which is only a short distance from the castle. None of her wearing apparel is missing, even the dress and slippers she wore on the previous evening were found in a corner of her room. Robbery was probably the motive of the crime, as a small safe, which stands next to Lady Wilmersley's bed and contained her jewels, has been rifled. Whoever did this must, however, have known the combination, as the lock has not been tampered with. This adds to the mystery of the case. Lady Wilmersley is said to be mentally unbalanced. Arthur Edward Crichton, 9th Baron Wilmersley, was born—' here follows a history of your family, Cyril, you don't want to hear that. Well, what do you think of it?" asked Campbell.
"It's too horrible! I can't think," said Crichton.
"I don't believe Lady Wilmersley was murdered," said Campbell. "Why should a murderer have troubled to remove one body and not the other? Mark my words, it was his wife who killed Wilmersley and opened the safe."
"I don't believe it! I won't believe it!" cried Cyril. "Besides, how could she have got away without a dress or hat? Remember they make a point of the fact that none of her clothes are missing."
"In the first place, you can't believe everything you read in a newspaper; but even granting the correctness of that statement, what was there to prevent her having borrowed a dress from one of her maids? She must have had one, you know."
"No—no! It can't be, I tell you; I—" Cyril stopped abruptly.
"What's the matter with you? You look as guilty as though you had killed him yourself. I can't for the life of me see why you take the thing so terribly to heart. You didn't like your cousin and from what you yourself tell me, I fancy he is no great loss to any one, and you don't know his wife—widow, I mean."
"It is such a shock," stammered Cyril.