upon their journey
home.

What transpired upon that homeward journey was destined to remain for
a long time an inscrutable mystery, but after leaving that little inn
no man among the curious villagers ever looked upon that old man's
face in life again. The two forms faded away in the distance, and the
weary wind sighed through the leafless trees; the bright glare of the
lights of the station gleamed behind them, but the shadows of the
melancholy hills seemed to envelop them in their dark embrace--and to
one of them, at least, it was the embrace of death.

CHAPTER III.

_An Alarm at the Farm-house._--_The Dreadful Announcement of William
Bucholz._--_The Finding of the Murdered Man._

The evening shadows gathered over Roton Hill, and darkness settled
over the scene. The wind rustled mournfully through the leafless
branches of the trees, as though with a soft, sad sigh, while
overhead the stars glittered coldly in their far-off setting of blue.

Within the farm-house the fire glowed brightly and cheerily; the
lamps were lighted; the cloth had been laid for the frugal evening
meal, and the kettle hummed musically upon the hob. The family of the
Warings, with the exception of the father, whose business was in a
distant city, were gathered together. Samuel Waring, the son, had
returned from his labor, and with the two girls were seated around
the hearth awaiting the return of the old gentleman and William,
while Mrs. Waring busied herself in the preparations for tea.

"Now, if Mr. Schulte would come," said Mrs. Waring, "we would ask him
to take tea with us this evening; the poor man will be cold and
hungry."

"No use in asking him, mother," replied Samuel, "he wouldn't accept."

"It is pretty nearly time they were here," said Sadie, with a longing
look toward the inviting table.

"Well, if they do not come soon we will not wait for them," said Mrs.
Waring.

As she spoke a shrill, startled cry rose upon the air; the voice of a
man, and evidently in distress. Breathless they stopped to
listen--the two girls clinging to each other with blanched faces and
staring eyes.

"Sammy! Sammy!" again sounded that frightened call.

Samuel Waring started to his feet and moved rapidly toward the door.

"It sounds like William!" he cried, "something must have happened."

He had reached the door and his hand was upon the latch, when it was
violently thrown open and Bucholz rushed in and fell fainting upon
the floor.