Kathleen was never told of it.
Then as he stood there with his eyes bent on her hair, he heard the sickening sound of Melun's body thud on to the stones below.
Releasing Kathleen's ears, he put his hand under her chin and lifted up her face. He marvelled that she had not fainted, but the dreadful horror in her eyes struck into his heart like a blow.
He had to hold her to prevent her falling to the floor, and so he stood for some few seconds with Kathleen limp and shivering in his arms.
Bracing himself for one last effort, Westerham lifted Kathleen up and bore her out of the room. Half-dazed, he stumbled down the stairs with her until he reached the hall.
In the doorway he saw Lord Penshurst, still clinging grimly to Patmore's collar, but at the sight of Kathleen the Premier released his hold and came running forward with outstretched arms.
“Just a minute,” said Westerham, quickly, and he walked into the room, the door of which he had shattered.
In the meantime Mendip and Lowther had picked up Mme. Estelle and carried her into the same room, and now she lay on the couch, her face growing grey with the shadows of death, and her breath coming fast and feebly. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling with an intense and horrible fixity.
Westerham pushed an armchair round with his foot and set Kathleen down on it so that her back was turned to the dying woman.
Lord Penshurst fell on his knees beside the chair, and seizing his daughter's hands, held them against his breast, and for a little while wept quietly.