"Thank you," she said softly. "I know how difficult it is for you to say even that. You cannot discuss the matter, but—don't think harder of me, Fred, than you can help."
She turned quickly and hurried from the room. She had scarcely closed the door when she reopened it.
"Constable Brennan is asking for you," she said. "Will you go in?"
She pushed the door wide open and Brennan came forward.
"Is Mr. Wallace here?" he asked, as soon as he had seen the door close.
"He has gone to bed—he is rather tired out after his journey. Is it anything particular?"
"One of the troopers has just ridden back. When they reached Taloona they found the place on fire. The sub-inspector was outside with his head smashed, and Mr. Dudgeon, with a bullet through him and his hands handcuffed behind his back, lying on the floor of the hut. They saw the glare of the fire through the trees and only galloped up just in time to get the old man out. He's in a bad way, Conlon said, and so is the sub-inspector."
"Wait till I tell Mr. Wallace," Harding exclaimed, as he rushed from the room.
Outside in the passage, Mrs. Eustace faced him.
"Fred, what is it? I heard—who is killed?"