--and the whole awful
truth flashed upon her. These were the papers Rosanna Moore had handed
to Whyte. Whyte had been murdered by the man to whom the papers were of
value--

"Oh! My father!"

She staggered blindly forward, and then, with one piercing shriek, fell
to the ground. In doing so, she struck against her father, who was
still standing beside the table. Awakened suddenly, with that wild cry
in his ears, he opened his eyes wide, put out feeble hands, as if to
keep something back, and with a strangled cry fell dead on the 'door
beside his daughter. Sal, horror-struck, did not lose her presence of
mind, but, snatching the papers off the table, she thrust them into her
pocket, and then called aloud for the servants. But they, already
attracted by Madge's wild cry, came hurrying in, to find Mark Frettlby,
the millionaire, lying dead, and his daughter in a faint beside her
father's corpse.

CHAPTER XXXI.

HUSH-MONEY.

As soon as Brian received the telegram which announced the death of
Mark Frettlby, he put on his hat, stepped into Calton's trap, and drove
along to the St. Kilda station in Flinders Street with that gentleman.
There Calton dismissed his trap, sending a note to his clerk with the
groom, and went down to St. Kilda with Fitzgerald. On arrival they
found the whole house perfectly quiet and orderly, owing to the
excellent management of Sal Rawlins. She had taken the command in
everything, and although the servants, knowing her antecedents, were
disposed to resent her doing so, yet such were her administrative
powers and strong will, that they obeyed her implicitly. Mark
Frettlby's body had been taken up to his bedroom, Madge had been put to
bed, and Dr. Chinston and Brian sent for. When they arrived they could
not help expressing their admiration at the capital way in which Sal
Rawlins had managed things.

"She's a clever girl that," whispered Calton to Fitzgerald. "Curious
thing she should have taken up her proper position in her father's
house. Fate is a deal cleverer than we mortals think her."

Brian was about to reply when Dr. Chinston entered the room. His face
was very grave, and Fitzgerald looked at him in alarm.

"Madge--Miss Frettlby," he faltered.

"Is very ill," replied the doctor; "has an attack of brain fever. I
can't answer for the consequences yet."

Brian sat down on the sofa, and stared at the doctor in a dazed sort of
way. Madge dangerously ill--perhaps dying. What if