“Not another—accident—here?”
For there was quite a large throng of workmen scattered over the lines on the opposite side, and culminating in one dense group not far from the spot where he had found Christian on the previous night.
“Ay, sir, it’s a woman this time.” And his voice suddenly fell to a hoarse whisper. “T’ woman as killed Mr. Christian! T’ poor creature was crazed, for sure! She got in here, nobody knows how, this morning; an’ she must ha’ throwed herself down on t’ line pretty nigh t’ place where she throwed him down last neght. She must ha’ waited for t’ mornin’ oop train. Anyway, we fahnd her lyin’ there this mornin’, poor lass!”
Bram had reached the group. He forced his way through, and looked down at the burden the men were carrying towards the very shed under the roof of which Chris had died.
The mutilated body, which had been decapitated by the heavy wheels of the train, was only recognizable by the torn and stained clothing as that of Meg Tyzack.
Bram staggered away, with his hand over his eyes.
CHAPTER XXVI. THE GOAL REACHED.
No sooner had Bram recovered himself, and gone to the office without another question to any one, avoiding the group and the sickening sight they surrounded, than he found one of the servants from Holme Park with a letter from Mr. Cornthwaite, asking him to come up to the house at once.
He found his employer sitting in the study alone, in the very seat, the very attitude, he had seen him in so often. While outside the house looked mournful in the extreme with its drawn blinds; while the servants moved about with silent step and scared faces, the master sat, apparently as unchanged as a rock after a storm.