ver any other token of the murderer: Thornton assisted me. At
the distance of some feet from the body, I thought I perceived something
glitter. I hastened to the place, and picked up a miniature. I was just
going to cry out, when Thornton whispered--"Hush! I know the picture; it
is as I suspected."

An icy thrill ran through my very heart. With a desperate but trembling
hand, I cleansed from the picture the blood, in which, notwithstanding
its distance from the corpse, the grater part of it was bathed. I looked
upon the features; they were those of a young and singularly beautiful
female. I recognized them not: I turned to the other side of the
miniature; upon it were braided two locks of hair--one was the long,
dark ringlet of a woman, the other was of a light auburn. Beneath were
four letters. I looked eagerly at them. "My eyes are dim," said I, in a
low tone to Thornton, "I cannot trace the initials."

"But I can," replied he, in the same whispered key, but with a savage
exultation, which made my heart stand still--"they are G. D., R. G.;
they are the initials of Gertrude Douglas and Reginald Glanville."

I looked up at the speaker--our eyes met--I grasped his hand vehemently.
He understood me. "Put it up," said he; "we will keep the secret." All
this, so long in the recital, passed in the rapidity of a moment.

"Have you found any thing there, Pelham?" shouted one of our companions.

"No!" cried I, thrusting the miniature in my bosom, and turning
unconcernedly away.

We carried the corpse to Dawson's house. The poor wife was in fits. We
heard her scream as we laid the body upon a table in the parlour.

"What more can be done?" said Lord Chester.

"Nothing," was the general answer. No excitation makes the English
people insensible to the chance of catching cold!

"Let us go home, then, and send to the nearest magistrate," exclaimed
our host: and this proposal required no repetition.

On our way, Chester said to me, "That fellow Dawson looked devilish
uneasy--don't you still suspect him and his friend?"

"I do not!" answered I, emphatically.

VOLUME VI.

CHAPTER LXVI.

And now I'm the world alone, ............ But why for others should I
groan, When none will sigh for me?--Byron.

The whole country was in confusion at the news of the murder. All the
myrmidons of justice were employed in the most active research for the
murderers. Some few persons were taken up on suspicion, but were as
in