McAllister was just saying, as they rose from the table, “I’ll gang doun to the toun now an’ find out what’s been goin’ on there,” when a horseman dashed up to the gate and dismounted.
“Warren!” exclaimed Ronald, catching sight of his friend through the open window; “he’s brought us the news.”
He hurried out as he spoke, all the others following, in the general anxiety to learn the cause of the unusual commotion in the town.
Charlton fastened his horse, opened the gate, and hastened up the path, meeting Ronald about half-way to the house.
The latter spoke first. “What news, Warren?”
“Dreadful! most dreadful!” he cried, passing his hand over his brow, like one half-stunned by some sudden calamity.
“So we feared from the strange and ominous sounds that have reached us. Come into the porch and take a seat, while you tell us all about it,” said Ronald, leading the way.
Charlton followed, shook hands in silence with Mrs. Heath and Miriam, then sat down, the family grouping themselves about him.
He was very pale and seemed much agitated. “Yes,” he sighed, “an awful thing has happened in Prairieville, our own town; two souls have been hurried into eternity without a moment of time for preparation.”
“Murder?” asked Ronald, in a low, awe-struck tone.