'What is it, Frank? What has happened that so many people are coming here, banging doors and talking so loud that I heard them here in my room, but I could not distinguish what they said. What's the matter? Any one hurt or dead?'
He put the question direct, and Frank gave a direct reply.
'Yes, a woman was found frozen to death in the Tramp House this morning, and was brought here. She is lying in the office at the end of the back hall.'
'A women frozen to death in the Tramp House!' Arthur repeated. 'Then I did hear a cry. Oh, Frank, who is she? Where did she come from?'
'We do not know who she is, or where she came from!' Frank replied, 'Mr. St. Claire thinks she is French. There is nothing about her person to identify her, but I would like you to see her, and—and—'
'I see her! Why should I see her, and shock my nerves more than they are already shocked?' Arthur said, with a decided shake of his head.
'But you must see her,' Frank continued. 'Perhaps you know her. She came last night. She—'
Before he could utter another word Arthur was at his side, Frank seizing him by the shoulder with the grip of a giant, demanded, fiercely:
'What do you mean by her coming last night? How did she come? Not by train, for John was there. Frank, there is something you are keeping back. I know it by your face. Tell me the truth. Is it Gretchen dead in this house?'
'No,' Frank answered huskily. 'It is not Gretchen, if that picture is like her, for this woman is very dark and old, and, besides that, has Gretchen a child?'