And so they went, leaving Beatrice a prey to melancholy forebodings.
She waited in the house for the best part of an hour, making pretence to play with Effie. Then her anxiety got the better of her; she put on her hat and started, leaving Effie in charge of the servant Betty.
Beatrice walked quickly along the cliff till she came in sight of Jones’s farm. From where she stood she could make out a great crowd of men, and even, when the wind turned towards her, catch the noise of shouting. Presently she heard a sound like the report of a gun, saw the crowd break up in violent confusion, and then cluster together again in a dense mass.
“What could it mean?” Beatrice wondered.
As the thought crossed her mind, she perceived two men running towards her with all their speed, followed by a woman. Three minutes more and she saw that the woman was Elizabeth.
The men were passing her now.
“What is it?” she cried.
“Murder!” they answered with one voice, and sped on towards Bryngelly.
Another moment and Elizabeth was at hand, horror written on her pale face.
Beatrice clutched at her. “Who is it?” she cried.