"They are already up, Miss."
"Do they know?"
"No, Miss. I just cast one glance, and then flew up to you, Miss."
"Why not to Master Ferdinand?"
"Because, Miss, we always look to you for orders," said the valet, respectfully; "and about the body, Miss?"
"Don't touch it--don't touch anything," said Clarice, warningly. "It is necessary that the police should see the room as it is; and on your way to the Police Station, Chalks, send a telegram to Captain Ackworth at Gattlinsands."
"And to Dr. Jerce, in London, Miss?"
"There is no need; Dr. Jerce is coming down to-day, as usual."
Clarice went to see Mrs. Rebson, and communicated the dreadful news of the crime. In a few minutes, the other servants were also informed, and everyone was horrified that such a tragedy had taken place in the quiet house. Mr. Horran had little enough to do with the domestics, seeing that he usually kept to his room; but he was sufficiently well liked to make one and all regret that he had come to so terrible an end. And Mrs. Rebson's expressions of sorrow were mingled with congratulatory comments on the triumph of The Domestic Prophet.
"Didn't I tell you, miss!" she said, nodding convincedly; "didn't I tell you that trouble and death and disgrace would come; and you laughed at me--what do you think of the Prophet now?"