Brand said. "Wait a moment: when did you last see this man?"
"This morning, sir—early this morning, sir," said she, in a profusion of tears over her prospective loss. "He came down-stairs with a letter in his hand, and there was twopence for my little boy to take it when he came home from school. How should I know he had gone back, sir, to make away with himself like that, and ruin a poor widow woman, sir?"
"Have you a servant in the house?"
"No sir; no one but myself—and me dependent—"
"Then go at once to the police-station, and tell the inspector on duty what has happened. You can do that, can't you? You will do no good by standing crying there, or getting the neighbors in. I will stop here till you come back."
She went away, leaving Brand and his paralyzed companion with this ghastly object lying prone on the floor.
"Poor devil!" Brand said; "his troubles are at an end now. I wonder whether I should lift him on to the bed, or wait until they come."
Then another thought struck him: and he turned quickly to his companion, who sat there horrified and helpless.
"Edwards," said he, "you must pull yourself together. The police will ask you what you know about this affair. Then you will have to give evidence before the coroner's inquest. There is nothing material for you to conceal; but still, no mention must be made of Lisle Street, do you understand?"
Edwards nodded. His face was of a ghastly white. Then he rose and said,