"Dead!" exclaimed Queenie, with a start of horror; "oh, no, that cannot be! It is but a little while since I saw her living and beautiful under this roof!"
"Her body is here still, Queenie, but her soul has fled to the God who gave it," he answered solemnly.
She trembled like a leaf in a storm at that grave assurance.
"Queenie, let me take you back to your dressing-room," he said. "Stay there a little while until I come for you."
Utterly unnerved by the shock of his revelation, she suffered him to lead her back. He left her at the door of her room and went out to seek Lord Valentine.
He had just put his wife and mother-in-law into the carriage, and stood talking with the driver on the pavement.
"Yes sir," the man was saying, "you know you brought her out and put her into the carriage yourself, and I jumped up on the box and drove right off. But when I got to Valentine House, my lord, the carriage was empty. Yet I could swear to you, my lord, that the carriage was never stopped an instant between here and home."
"Come with me, my lord," said Captain Ernscliffe, in a whisper, as he touched his arm, "I will explain the mystery."
"Very well. Let the carriage wait until I return," he said to the man as he walked away with his brother-in-law.
Captain Ernscliffe led him back into the theater where Sydney lay still and cold in death, watched by the manager and several of the theater employes. They had lifted the body and laid it on a pile of silken cushions, to remain until it had been viewed by the coroner, who had been immediately notified of the terrible event.