“Something upset her terribly yesterday morning. She was ill and with no cause that I could see, and I believe she had had a nervous shock.”
“But she seemed all right this morning,––a little pale, but otherwise quite herself.” Bertrand turned the little 148 charm over in his hand. “He thought it was Chinese because it is jade, but this carving is Egyptian. I don’t think it is jade, and I don’t think it is Chinese.”
“But whatever it is, it was on Richard’s chain Saturday,” said Mary, sadly. “And now, what can we do? On second thought I’ll say nothing to Betty. If a tragedy has come upon the Craigmiles, it will also fall on her now, and we must spare her all of it we can, until we know.”
A call came to them from below, and Bertrand hastily handed the charm back to his wife, and she tied it again in her handkerchief.
“Oh, Bertrand, don’t go near that terrible brink. It might give way. I’m sure this has been an accident.”
“But the stick, Mary, and the marks of blood on Peter Junior’s hat. I’m afraid––afraid.”
“But they were always fond of each other. They have been like brothers.”
“And quarrels between brothers are often the bitterest.”
“But we have never heard of their quarreling, and they were so glad to see each other Saturday. And you know Peter Junior was always possessed to do whatever Richard planned. They were that way about enlisting, you remember, and everything else. What cause could Richard have against Peter Junior?”
“We can’t say it was Richard against Peter. You see the stick was bloody, and it was Peter’s. We must offer no opinion, no matter what we think, for the world may turn against the wrong one, and only time will tell.”