By one of those
unexpected calamities, which are often inexplicable--and which most
certainly was so as yet in the present instance--a promising young life
had been snapped asunder, and another reigned in his place. In one short
hour Val Elster, who had scarcely cross or coin to call his own, had been
going in danger of arrest from one moment to another, had become a peer
of the realm and a man of wealth.
As they laid the body down in a small room opening from the hall, and his
late companions and guests crowded around in awe-struck silence, there
was one amidst them who could not control his grief and emotion. It was
poor Val. Pushing aside the others, never heeding them in his bitter
sorrow, he burst into passionate sobs as he leaned over the corpse. And
none of them thought the worse of Val for it.
"Oh, Percival! how did it happen?"
The speaker was Dr. Ashton. Little less affected himself, he clasped the
young man's hand in token of heartfelt sympathy.
"I cannot think _how_ it could have happened," replied Percival, when
able to control his feelings sufficiently to speak. "It seems awfully
strange to me--mysteriously so."
"If he found himself going wrong, why didn't he shout out?" asked young
Carteret, with a rueful face. "I couldn't have helped hearing him."
It was a question that was passing through the minds of all; was being
whispered about.
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