startled young
marquis, rushing back into the hall and up the stairs.

In the upper hall he found a crowd of terrified people, all hurrying in
one direction--toward the bedroom of the banker.

"The dear old gentleman has got a fit, I fear, and his daughter has
discovered him in it," was the next thought that flashed upon the mind of
the marquis as, without waiting to ask questions, he rushed through and
distanced the crowd, and reached the door of the banker's bedroom, which
was blocked up by men and women, wedding guests, and servants, some
questioning and exclaiming, some weeping and wailing, some standing in
panic-stricken silence.

"What has happened?" cried the young marquis pushing his way with more
violence than ceremony through all that impeded his entrance into the
chamber.

No one answered him. No one dared to do so.

"It is Lord Arondelle--let his lordship pass," said one of the wedding
guests, recognizing the expectant bridegroom as he entered the room.

An awe-struck group of persons was gathered around some object on the
floor; they made way in silence for the approach of the marquis.

He passed in and looked down.

HORROR UPON HORRORS! There lay the dead body of the banker,
full-dressed as on the evening before, but with his head crushed in and
surrounded by a pool of coagulated blood! The face was marble white; the
eyes were open and stony, the jaws had dropped and stiffened into death.
Across the body lay the swooning form of his daughter, with her bridal
vail and robes all dabbled in her father's blood.

"HEAVEN OF HEAVENS! Who has done this?" cried the marquis, a
cold sweat of horror bursting from his pallid brow as he stared upon this
ghastly sight!

A dozen voices answered him at once, to the effect that no one yet knew.

"Run! run! and fetch a doctor instantly! Some of you! any of you who can
go the quickest!" he cried, as he stooped and lifted the insensible form
of his bride and laid her on the bed--the bed that had not been occupied
during the night. Evidently from these appearances, the banker had been
murdered before his usual hour of retiring.

"Who has gone for a doctor?" inquired Lord Arondelle, in an agony of
anxiety, as he bent over the unconscious form of his beloved one.

"I have despatched Gilbert, yer lairdship. He will mak' unco guid haste,"
answered the steward, who stood overcome with grief as he gazed upon the
ghastly corpse of his unfortunate master.

"My lord,"