“It must have been the sight of Hervey’s levelled pistol that made the dog rush at him,” said Prudence. “I’ve seen him do so before.”
“Strange, strange,” murmured Iredale.
“That dog feared firearms,” said Sarah.
“Perhaps he had reason,” observed Robb significantly, “he only has three sound legs. My God! And not content with his victims in the mountains, he–––But, yes, I see it. This man came here without expecting to meet Grey or me.” Robb broke off and looked at Prudence. “Of course, I am beginning to understand. You and Grey were to have been married.” Then he turned back to the contemplation of the dead bodies.
“Yes, the murderer of Grey lies confessed,” said Iredale quietly, “and I think that his motives were even stronger than those attributed to–––”
Prudence placed a hand over his mouth before he could complete his sentence.
They were startled from their horrified contemplation of the work of those last few moments by the sound of Hephzibah’s voice calling from her bedroom. The sitting-room door had been opened by Alice, who had entered the moment Iredale had released the handle. Now they could hear the farm-wife moving about overhead, evidently on her way down-stairs.
Sarah was the first to recover her presence of mind. She turned upon Robb.
“Not a word to her about––about–––”