“Too late, my dear,” said the old man sternly; “too late.”
He placed his arm round her and drew her to his breast, as if to defend her from Harry.
“When I went home that night,” he continued in a slow, solemn voice, “I felt that something was not right, and I came on here—in time to see—”
“Oh!” cried Madelaine.
“In time to see that shivering, guilty wretch flee from where he had struck my poor master down; and if I had been a young man and strong I could have killed him for his crime.”
“You saw him?”
“Yes, my dear. No need for the locket to bear witness. I had my duty to do, and it is done.”
“Done?”
“Yes; to punish him for his crime.”
“Crampton, what have you said? Harry! before it is too late!”