"You must not give up all hope, mother," he said softly. "He may yet come back." He did not know what else to say, to comfort her.
"Come back?" she cried hysterically, suddenly sitting up and facing him. "Come back, when you are standing there with his blood on your hands! You murderer! You monster! Go—for God's sake, go! Don't touch me! Don't look at me!"
Paul was horrified at her violence, and could not believe that she was in her senses. But he had heard the words she had spoken, and the wound had entered into his soul. His look was colder than ever as he answered.
"You are evidently insane," he said
"Go—go, I tell you! Let me never see you again!" cried the frantic woman, rising to her feet, and staring at him with wide and blood-shot eyes.
Paul went up to her, and quickly seizing her hands held them in his firm grip, without pressure, but so that she could not withdraw them.
"Mother," he said, in low and distinct tones, "I believe you are mad. If you are not, God forgive you, and grant that you may forget what you have said. I am as innocent of Alexander's death—if indeed he is dead—as you are yourself."
She seemed awed by his manner, and spoke more quietly.
"Where is he, then? Paul, where is your brother?"
"I cannot tell where he is. He left me and never returned, as the man who was with me can testify. I came here to tell you the story with my own lips. If you do not care to hear it, I will go, and you shall have your wish, for you need never see me again." He released her hands, and turned from her as though to leave the room.