"Come away, my dear," said Mrs. Belswin, bending down with a caressing gesture. "Come to your room; we can do no good here."
"Oh!" cried Kaituna, rising slowly from her knees; "who has done this? My poor father! My poor father! Who has murdered him?"
Again a flash of suspicion between Dombrain and Mrs. Belswin.
"We do not know dear," said the latter, soothingly; "but Mr. Dombrain has sent for the police. Perhaps they will find out the truth."
"They must! they must!" cried the girl, in an agony of grief. "Oh, it is terrible. To have come back for this. To be killed under his own roof by an enemy. Oh, why does God permits such things?"
"God permits many things," said Mrs. Belswin, bitterly, putting her arm round the shrinking form of her daughter. "Come away, dear. All that can be done will be done. The English police are clever, and may perhaps capture the murderer."
Dombrain smiled, and Mrs. Belswin noticed the smile.
"Perhaps the murderer may escape," he said with emphasis, giving a stealthy glance at Mrs. Belswin's coldly impassive face.
"He may escape man; but he will not escape God," cried Kaituna, fervently. "Oh, come away, Mrs. Belswin, come away. I shall die if I stay here."
"You will of course do everything that is necessary, Mr. Dombrain," said the chaperon, as she led the weeping girl to the door.