Yet not without severe self-compulsion she flung up again the sash; but when she looked out, the crowd alone remained; the bier was gone.
Whether carried on, or brought into the house, she now wished to know, with some particulars, of whom it might be, and what belonged to so strange and horrible an appearance.
She rang for little Peggy; but Peggy came not. She rang again, but no one answered the bell. She opened her door, meaning to descend to her little parlour for information; but the murmuring buzz she had before heard upon the road, was now within the house, which seemed filled with people, all busy and occupied, yet speaking low, and appearing to partake of a general awe.
She could not venture to encounter so many spectators; she shut her door, to wait quietly till this first commotion should be passed.
This was not for more than an hour; when observing, from her window, that the crowd was dispersed, she again listened at the door, and found that the general disturbance was succeeded by a stillness the most profound.
She then rang again, and little Peggy appeared, but looking pale and much frightened.
Camilla asked what had been the matter.
'O ma'am,' she answered, crying, 'here's been murder! A gentleman has been murdered—and nobody knows who he is, nor who has done it!'
She then related that he had been found dead in a wood hard by, and one person calling another, and another, he had been brought to the inn to be owned.
'And is he here now?' with an involuntary shudder asked Camilla.