As he spoke, he took the road it took, and dashed through the window
into the balcony.

"And we, too, George," exclaimed Henry; "we will follow Mr. Marchdale.
This dreadful affair concerns us more nearly than it does him."

The lady who was the mother of these young men, and of the beautiful
girl who had been so awfully visited, screamed aloud, and implored of
them to stay. But the voice of Mr. Marchdale was heard exclaiming
aloud,--

"I see it--I see it; it makes for the wall."

They hesitated no longer, but at once rushed into the balcony, and from
thence dropped into the garden.

The mother approached the bed-side of the insensible, perhaps the
murdered girl; she saw her, to all appearance, weltering in blood, and,
overcome by her emotions, she fainted on the floor of the room.

When the two young men reached the garden, they found it much lighter
than might have been fairly expected; for not only was the morning
rapidly approaching, but the mill was still burning, and those mingled
lights made almost every object plainly visible, except when deep
shadows were thrown from some gigantic trees that had stood for
centuries in that sweetly wooded spot. They heard the voice of Mr.
Marchdale, as he cried,--

"There--there--towards the wall. There--there--God! how it bounds
along."