The butler made no reply, but turned his eyes to one of the servants who came behind, and who was not engaged with the others in carrying the body of his master. The man had a gun in his hand, the cock of the right-hand barrel was down, and the white dust surrounding the pan showed that it had been recently discharged. A single glance was sufficient to show that it was the gun of Charles Tyrrell, the same gun that he had taken out with him in the morning. Mr. Driesen made no observation, however, but by a slight frown, and the body was carried into the library as he had directed.
"Go and give the orders I mentioned," continued Mr. Driesen, speaking to the butler, as soon as they had set down the body, "while I go and inform Mr. Tyrrell, who has been in some time."
"Indeed! sir," exclaimed the butler, "I did not see him come in."
"But I did," replied Mr. Driesen; "he passed through the library some time ago, and went to his own room."
Thus saying he ascended the stairs, and knocked at the door of Charles Tyrrell's room.
"Come in!" said the young gentleman in a calm voice: but on turning the handle of the door, Mr. Driesen found that it was locked. Charles, however, unlocked it instantly, and on looking toward the washing-stand, Mr. Driesen saw that he had been washing his hands, and that the water was bloody.
"Charles," he said, fixing his eyes upon him, "I have some very bad news for you."
Charles Tyrrell turned very pale, but he replied nothing, and Mr. Driesen went on. "Your father has been found dead in the wood, apparently murdered."
"Good God!" exclaimed Charles Tyrrell. "Where was he found?"
"That I cannot say!" replied Mr. Driesen, "but they have just brought home the body, and I thought it right to come and inform you of the facts myself, especially as you and Sir Francis had quarrelled so violently in the morning, had gone out together, at least one following the other closely, and as your gun seems to have been found by the men very close to the dead body--"