a table was almost the only light,
for that which came through the ground-glass at the top of the staircase
was so much yellow gloom.

"One of the maids--Anne--came and woke me," said Katrine, speaking very
calmly, as she looked from one to the other, the most collected of any
one present. "She said there was something wrong."

"She woke me, too," cried Lydia, who was trembling visibly, and looked
of a sallow grey.

"Mr Girtle, will you come down?"

It was the butler's voice, and Paul Capel ran quickly down the stairs to
the drawing-room floor, where the old butler, ghastly pale, with his
hair sticking to his forehead, had lit half-a-dozen candles and stood
them, some on a table, some on the pedestal of the great bronze group
outside Colonel Capel's door.

"What is it? Speak, man!" cried Capel.

"The ladies! Don't let the ladies come!"

It was too late; they were already there; and the women-servants were
dimly seen in the gloom at the foot of the stairs.

"But what is wrong?" cried Capel.

"I--I--"

The butler passed his hand over his humid face, and looked piteously
from one to the other.

"Preenham! Speak, man! At once!" said Mr Girtle, sternly.

"I woke at half-past seven, sir," he said, in a trembling voice, "and
wondered that I had not been called at seven. Mr Ramo, sir, always
rose very early, and called me and Charles; but I was not surprised, for
since master's death, he has slept outside his door, I think--I'm almost
sure, though I never said anything to--"

"Man, you are torturing us!" cried Capel.

"Give him time," said Artis, who looked nervous and strange.

"Yes, let him speak," said Katrine. "Go on, Mr Preenham, and tell us."

"Thank you ma'am, I will," said the butler; "but--but would you ladies
go back to your room or the drawing-room, I've something--something--"

"I'm not a child," said Katrine. "Lydia, dear, you had better go."

"I will stay with you," said Lydia, laying her hand upon Katrine's arm;
and after a helpless look round, and a motion of his hands, as if he
washed them of any trouble that might come, the old butler went on.

"I didn't take much notice, as we were late last night, but as soon as I
was dressed, I knocked at Charles' door--he sleeps in a turn-up bedstead
in the servants' hall."

The old man directed this piece of information to those around him, and
then went on.

"There was no answer, so I went in, and Charles was not there."

"Not there?"