He had recovered all his
accustomed nerve, and he stepped to the outer room.
A man stood in the door-way. It was the stranger, and he,
too, held in his hand a masked lantern.
The man's eyes were fixed upon the face of the corpse.
"What has happened here?" he demanded.
"Come in," said the detective.
"Whose body is that?"
"It is the body of old Tom Pearce."
"He was murdered," said the man.
"Come in," again commanded the detective.
"Did you know this body was here when you left me a few
moments ago?"
"I did not."
In a hoarse voice the stranger asked;
"Has the girl been murdered?"
"I trust not."
"Have you searched for her?"
"I have."
"And cannot find her?"
"No."
"What do you know about this tragedy?"
"As much as you do."
"No doubt at all."
"Do you suspect the assassin?"
"I do! but come in."
"I can stand here."
"Come in, you may attract attention of someone passing."
"What harm if I do?"
"No, harm, but it may prove inconvenient, and may interfere
with our efforts to learn the fate of the girl."
"One moment; do you know anything concerning this tragedy?"
"All I know is that I came to that door as you did, and my
eyes fell upon the ghastly sight."
"Then you came here did you expect to find the old man alive?"
"I did."
"And the girl?"
"Yes."
"Then this is a surprise to you?"
"It is."
The stranger entered the room, and in a stern voice he
demanded.
"Young man, who are you?"
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
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