When he had fetched the lamp Paul took it and began rapidly to examine round the ground floor of the rambling building. He was seeking for the court-yard into which Boris had fallen.
At last they found it, and found, too, all that remained of Boris Ivanovitch. He was battered and crushed and bruised almost beyond recognition.
Paul set his face and straightened the twisted and distorted body out.
Then he straightened himself, and picking up the lamp led the way back into the house.
By this time Natalie, though very pale and still shaken, was quite composed. Indeed, she was now more self-possessed than her brother. She was doing her utmost to quiet his still painful agitation.
Paul looked into her face, and seeing how strong and resolute it was, felt no hesitation in speaking before her.
"Sir," he said very quietly to Peter, "Boris is dead."
Peter glanced at him quickly and then turned to his sister.
"Thank heaven!" he cried.
"Hush," said Natalie, gently, and taking her brother by the arm she pointed to Madame Estelle.