I almost wish we hadn't come. These were the Master's body-guard. Still no sound. Yes; she had heard the music the night before. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. Better even than these. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered.
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