The corporal crossed himself, his lips murmuring as he glanced about, and then into my face.
"Murder, sir! The Confederate captain lying in yonder on the bed?"
"Yes; he was waylaid here, and struck down from behind. I found his body out in front of that door, the skull crushed."
"An' ye think that feller did it?"
"I don't know who did it. But I should like to discover where that lad hides, and what he is here for. We have accounted for all our men, and searched this floor inch by inch. I began to think Miss Hardy was mistaken, but now you've seen him also."
"An' Murphy," broke in the horrified corporal, edging closer. "Murphy saw him too. Bedad, maybe it was a ghost!"
"Ghosts don't talk, and I never heard of any wearing revolvers. Major, when did you see Billie last?"
I noticed how haggard his face was, and he answered slowly, his hands grasping the stair-rail.
"We were together in the front hall when your men came. You were talking loudly, and the new voices attracted our attention. We both went forward to the head of the stairs."
"You overheard what was said?" I interrupted, a new possibility dawning upon me.