“My father!” she whispered brokenly; “oh, my poor father!”
“What!” I began——
“At Black Gap!...”
“Black Gap!” I said; for the place was close upon half a mile away. “Have you come so far?”
“He is lying there! My poor father—dead!”
“What!” cried East, springing up—“Sir Jeffrey—dead? Not drowned?”
“No, no! he is lying on the path this side of the Gap! I ... almost stumbled over ... him. He has been ... murdered! Oh, God help me!...”
East and I stared at one another, speechless with the sudden horror of it. Sir Jeffrey murdered!
Suddenly the distracted girl turned to my friend, clutching frenziedly at his arm.