“Why bend their brows so sternly on me, Vaughn?
What have I done? Oh, tell me quickly, youth!
My soul can ill endure their frowning looks.”
Through all this long, dreadful investigation, Eudora had remained in the death-chamber of Lady Leaton, bowed down with grief, but unconscious of the heavy clouds that were gathering darkly over her young head.
She had seen the body of her aunt carried away from the chamber towards the crimson drawing-room where the coroner’s inquest was held, and where the post-mortem examination was made.
She had been called in her turn to give her separate testimony before the jury, and she had described the deaths of Agatha and that of Lady Leaton simply as she had witnessed them. She had not omitted to mention a circumstance that she had regarded as a dream—namely, the passage and disappearance of a dark-robed woman in Agatha’s chamber. At the close of her testimony she had been conducted back to the chamber from which she had been taken, and there she had tarried through the remainder of the investigation.
Half stunned with grief, she felt no disposition and made no attempt to leave the room. She saw the policemen guarding the doors, but did not even suspect that she was their prisoner. She had noticed in the morning the strange regards of those around her, but, absorbed in sorrow for the loss of her relatives, the circumstance had passed from her mind.
In the course of the day food and drink had been sent to her by the thoughtful attention of Malcolm Montrose, but she had partaken of nothing but a cup of tea.
And now, at the close of this long and terrible day, she remained as has been said, bowed down with grief, but totally unsuspicious of the dark storm that was gathering around her. She sat in a low chair beside the now empty bed, with her head down upon the coverlet, so dead to all external impressions, that the door was opened and the room half-filled with people before she moved. There was the Princess Pezzilini, Malcolm Montrose, Dr. Watkins, the officer who brought the warrant, the two policemen that kept the doors, and a crowd of male and female servants drawn thither by curiosity.
And still Eudora did not look up.