“How is it that you don’t know?”
“She is dead,” said Crisp.
“Dead! How do you know?” asked Scott.
“Because Irene told me she died in a madhouse.”
“What drove her to a madhouse?” asked Le Moyne.
Old Meg, still kneeling before him, was trembling like a leaf shaken by the wind.
“I don’t know,” she said. “The last time I saw her she was asleep in the tent, and she went away in a thunder storm, at night, for when we got up in the morning she was gone.”
“And you know nothing of her at all?”
“No, I have never heard from her since.”
“Then I am as much in the dark as ever,” said Le Moyne, in a despairing tone.