Pina followed him, and stood sobbing and wringing her hands.
He knelt down by the body and gazed on the marble face, the half-open eyes, and the rigid lips drawn tightly from the white and glistening teeth.
He hastily unfastened the front of her dress, and put his hand in her bosom to feel if her heart yet beat. It seemed still.
He put his ear down to listen if her lungs yet moved. They were motionless.
He felt her hands and feet. They were cold and stiff.
Then he arose and stood gazing upon the body.
“Oh, is she dead? Is you sure?” inquired Pina, with tears streaming down her face.
“Yes. She seems to have been dead some hours;” groaned Alexander, with his own face as white as that of the lifeless form before him.
“Oh, master! Oh, sir! The thieves broke in and done it, didn’t they? Didn’t they?”
“I don’t know,” said Mr. Lyon, speaking slowly and softly. “There is no evidence of the late presence of thieves in the house. Nothing as yet is missing. And there is no sign of blood upon her clothing.”