e mill as fast as we can, and see what can be
done,' said Dr. May, snatching up his hat and gloves. 'You come and
walk with me to Bankside, and tell me by the way about this terrible
business. Good heavens! they'll have thrown the boy into the river!'

And calling out that his carriage should follow to Bankside, the Doctor
dashed up-stairs, and knocked at Ethel's door. 'My dear,' he said,
'there has been a robbery or something at the Vintry Mill. I must go
and see Henry Ward about it. Poor old Axworthy is murdered, and I'm
terribly afraid Leonard has met with some foul play. You or Mary had
better go and see about Ave presently, but don't believe a word of
anything till you see me again.'

And shutting the door, while Ethel felt as if the room were reeling
round with her, Dr. May was in a few seconds more hastening along by
Hardy's side, extracting from him the little he had to tell. The old
man had been unlocking the door of the mill at five o'clock, when he
was summoned by loud shrieks from the window of Mr. Axworthy's
sitting-room, and found that the little maid had been appalled by the
sight of her master sunk forward from his gouty chair upon the table,
his hair covered with blood. Hardy had been the first to touch him,
and to perceive that he had long been dead. The housekeeper, the only
other servant who slept in the house, had rushed in half-dressed; but
neither nephew appeared. Young Axworthy had gone the previous day to
the county races, leaving the time of his return doubtful, and Leonard
Ward did not answer when called. It was then found that his room was
empty, his bed untouched, and the passage window outside his door left
open. The terrified servants held confused consultation, and while the
groom had hurried off to give the alarm at Whitford, and ride on in
search of Sam Axworthy, Hardy had taken another horse and started to
inform Henry Ward, but his heart failing him, he had come to beg the
Doctor to break the intelligence to the family.

Dr. May had few doubts that the robbers must have entered by the
passage window, and meeting resistance from Leonard, must have dragged
him out, and perhaps thrown him from it, then having gone on to their
murderous work in the old man's sitting-room. In that great rambling
house, where the maids slept afar off, and the rats held nightly
gambols, strange noises were not likely to be observed; and the thought
of Leonard lying stunned and insensible on the