It was night when she awoke again, and became immediately conscious of an unusual commotion in the castle—a commotion that reached her ears, even over the thick drugget with which the stairs and halls were covered, and through the strong doors and heavy hangings with which her chamber was protected. Whether it was this disturbance that had broken her rest, she did not really know. She listened intently. There was a swift and heavy running to and fro, and a confusion of tongues, giving voices in mingled tones of fear, grief, rage, consternation, expostulation, and every key of passionate emotion and excitement.
Lady Vincent reached forth her hand and rang the bell, and then listened, but no one answered it. She rang again, with no better success. After waiting some little time she rang a violent peal, that presently brought the housekeeper hurrying into the room, pale as death, and nearly out of breath.
"Mrs. Murdock, I have rung three times. I have never before had occasion to ring twice for attendance," said Lady Vincent, in a displeased tone.
"Ou, me leddy, ye will e'en forgi'e me this ance, when ye come to hear the cause," panted the housekeeper.
"What has happened?" demanded Claudia.
"Ou, me leddy! sic an' awfu' event."
"What is it, then?"
"Just murther—no less!"
"Murder!" exclaimed Claudia, starting up and gazing at the speaker with horror-distended eyes.
"Just murther!" gasped the housekeeper, sinking down in the armchair beside her lady's bed, because in truth her limbs gave way beneath her.