“It had been thrown in the rapids, sir, in the expectation that it would be carried over the falls. Instead, however, it lodged in a log-jam above the falls. As I was walking along the shore I saw a foot sticking out of the water. I brought the body ashore——”
“You brought the body ashore—out of the rapids above the falls——?”
“Yes, sir. A woman I had with me, Mary Moosa, helped me.”
“Describe the victim.”
“A young man, sir, that is to say, under thirty. In stature about the same as the prisoner, and of the same complexion. What remained of his clothes suggested a man of refinement.”
“But his face?”
“It was unrecognizable, sir.”
A dreadful low cry broke from the half-breed woman. Her manacled hands went to her face, her body rocked forward from the waist.
The man rapped out a command to her in the Indian tongue to get a grip on herself. She tried to obey, straightening up, and taking down her hands. Her face showed a ghastly yellow pallor.
“What proof have you of murder?” asked the Major.