Half an hour later Frederick presented himself at the gate of the widow's palace and asked to see her. The servants replied that their mistress had gone out two hours previously and that she was expected back every minute. If his excellency would take the trouble of walking up stairs he might wait for her in her boudoir. Shortly afterward Frederick came down stairs again, and handing the servant a card for the widow declared that, being pressed for time, he was unable to wait any longer.
He then hastened to his hotel and locked himself up in his room, determined to pack up his belongings and find an excuse for leaving Baroda the next morning. He was not short of money now, for, emptying his pockets on the table, he sat for some moments gazing at a heap of gold pieces and jewels which must have amounted to a value of over several thousands of pounds. Locking this treasure in a small trunk, he was just about to change his clothes for evening dress when there was a loud knock at the door. Frederick started and looked helplessly around him before hoarsely exclaiming:
“Who is there?”
“It is I,” replied the voice of Col. Fitzpatrick. “Open the door, my dear boy. I want to speak to you.”
Somewhat reassured, Frederick hastened to admit the colonel, who, throwing himself on a chair, exclaimed:
“A terrible thing has happened. You will be horribly shocked. Our poor old friend, the widow, has been found murdered near the ruins of the Temple of Jain,” and without noticing the ashy hue of Frederick's face he continued: “Her assassin was captured just as he was attempting to remove from her corpse the jewels which she wore. The whole town is in an uproar about it, and the culprit was nearly torn to pieces by the people when he was taken through the streets on his way to the prison.”
ROBBING THE MURDERED WIDOW.
“You say her murderer is captured?”