J. COLE. Td

gone to her room, rushed down to me; the
girls, in their dressing-gowns, just as they
were preparing for bed, followed, calling out,
“ Auntie! O Auntie! what is it? Who is
screaming? What can be the matter?”
Hardly were they in the room when Mary
rushed in, ghastly, her eyes staring, and in a
voice hoarse with terror, gasped out, “Come!
come! he’s found! he’s murdered! I saw
him. He’s lying in the cellar, with his throat
cut. Oh, it’s horrible!” Then she began to
scream again.

The doctor tried to hold me back, but I
broke from him, and ran down-stairs, where
I could find no one; all was dark in the
kitchens, but there was a light in the area,
and I was soon there, followed by Dr. Lo-
ring.

By the open cellar-door stood Mrs. Wilson,
and the cabman with her. Directly she saw
me, she called out, “Oh, dear mistress, don’t
you come here; it’s not a sight for you.
Take her away, Dr. Loring, she musn’t see it.’

“What is it? ” I cried; “ Mary says it’s” —
I could not say the words, but seizing the