"No. You know where she is! Tell me, I command you!"

Sybilla Silver covered her face with both hands, and cowered before him
with every sign of guilt.

"Spare me!" she cried, faintly. "I dare not tell you!"

He made one stride forward, caught her by the arm, his eyes glaring
like the eyes of a tiger.

"Speak!" he thundered; "or by the Heaven above us, I'll tear it from
your throat! Is she with him?"

"She is," cowering, shrinking, trembling.

"Where?"

"On the stone terrace."

"How do you know?"

"He returned this afternoon; he sent for me; he told me to tell her to
meet him there to-night, about midnight. She did not think you would
return before two or three---- Oh, for pity's sake----"

"I'll have their hearts' blood!" he thundered, with an awful oath.

The horrible voice, the horrible oath, was like nothing earthly. The
two women cowered down, too intensely frightened even to scream. One
other listener recoiled in wordless horror. It was Edwards, the valet.

The madman, goaded to insane fury, had rushed out of the hall--out of
the house. The trio looked at each other with bloodless faces and
dilated eyes of terror.

Edwards was the first to find his paralyzed tongue:

"May the Lord have mercy upon us! There'll be murder done this night!"

The two women never spoke. Huddled together, they clung to Edwards, as
women do cling to men in their hour of fear.

Half an hour passed; they never moved nor stirred.

Ten minutes more, and Sir Everard dashed in among them as he had dashed
out.

"It is false!" he shouted--"a false, devilish slander! She is not
there!"

A shriek from Claudine--a wild, wild shriek. With starting eyes she
was pointing to the baronet's hands.

All looked and echoed that horror-struck cry. They were literally
dripping blood!

CHAPTER XXIX.

BRANDED.

The baronet lifted his hands to the light, and gazed at their crimson
hue with wild, dilated eyes and ghastly face.

"Blood!" he said, in an awful whisper--"blood--Good God, it is hers!
She is murdered!"

The three listeners recoiled still further, paralyzed at the sight, at
the words, at the awful thought that a murderer, red-handed, stood
before them.

"A horrible deed has been done this night!" he cried, in a voice that
rang down the long hall like a bugle blast. "A murder has been
committed! Rouse the house, fetch lights, and follow me!"

Edwards rose up, trembling in every limb.

"Quic