He exclaimed hoarsely:
"Do not weep so bitterly, my good girl; tears will not bring back the dead. All that remains to us now is to take vengeance on her enemies. To do this we must find proofs of their crime. Come with me, and let us search Granny Jenks' room."
It was not hard to break open the locked door, and they went into the gloomy apartments, Sophie opening the window and letting in a flood of light.
Then she saw what had escaped their eyes last night—stains of blood on the bare, uncarpeted floor. In the bedroom, the pillow where Liane's head had rested last night was also marked by red stains that told in their own mute language the story of a terrible crime.
Their horrified eyes met, and he groaned:
"It is as I told you! She was murdered, sweet Liane! Oh, I will take a terrible vengeance for the crime!"
Sophie replied with heartbroken sobbing, and they remained thus several moments, shuddering with horror in the bare, fireless room.
But not a tear dimmed the man's eyes. He was stricken with despair that lay too deep for tears. His heavy eyes wandered about the room, lighting on a small black trunk in a corner.
"If I could only find the proofs!" he muttered, and unhesitatingly broke the lock, scattering the contents out upon the floor.