"But the danger," said Alice, faintly.
"Bernard knows neither you nor I will give him up, and this is the place he will come to. The poor soul is being hunted down, I daresay. But he knows where to come to, bless him! Watch, my dear child. It is probable he will come at night. Then take him to the turret room, and tell the servants to hold their tongues. What's that?"
It was a demure old woman—all Miss Berengaria's servants were aged—who advanced with a telegram for Alice. With shaking fingers, the girl opened it. "From Mr. Durham," she said. "He is Bernard's lawyer and wants me to come to see him at once."
"No," said Miss Berengaria, taking the telegram from her. "I'll go myself. You stay here and wait for the coming of that poor boy."
CHAPTER VII
BERNARD'S FRIENDS
The report of the murder caused great excitement in London. It seemed terrible that so old a man, and a titled man at that, should be murdered in his own house and by his profligate grandson. The general opinion was that Bernard should not only be hanged, but drawn and quartered, as his crime amounted to parricide. But this vengeful demand was made only by the extreme people, and the newspapers were on the whole very fair in their statements. Although it seemed quite certain that young Gore was guilty, yet the journals gave him the benefit of the doubt. Not till after the inquest did any newspaper venture to state that the man had really committed the crime. But this was as it should be, if the fair play instinct of the English race is to be lived up to.
Durham attended the inquest as Sir Simon's lawyer and executor, and Miss Plantagenet attended it with him. She saw the solicitor only for a few minutes and they had little time to exchange opinions. But Durham assured Miss Berengaria that he was certain Bernard was innocent, upon which the old gentlewoman clapped him on the back. Her good opinion was strengthened at the inquest by the sturdy way in which the lawyer maintained this point.