He went on his way feeling a little more hopeful, after impressing upon the nurse to keep the doors locked for fear of any further incursions from poor, crazy Meg Tyzack. On arriving at the works, he saw, as was to be expected after the tragedy of the preceding evening, an unusual stir among the workmen, who were standing about the entrance, talking in eager and excited tones. One of the workmen saluted Bram, and asked him if he had “heard t’ fresh news.” “What’s that?” asked Bram. “Coom this weay, sir; Ah’ll show ye.” Bram, with a sick terror at his heart, asking himself what new horror he should be called upon to witness, followed the man through the works. The rain had come on again, a drizzling, light rain, which was already turning the morning’s dust into a thick, black paste. They passed across the yards and through the sheds, until again they reached the spot where the railway divided the works into two parts. An exclamation broke from Bram’s lips. “Not another--accident--here?” For there was quite a large throng of workmen scattered over the lines on the opposite side, and culminating in one dense group not far from the spot where he had found Christian on the previous night. “Ay, sir, it’s a woman this time.” And his voice suddenly fell to a hoarse whisper. “T’ woman as killed Mr. Christian! T’ poor creature was crazed, for sure! She got in here, nobody knows how, this morning; an’ she must ha’ throwed herself down on t’ line pretty nigh t’ place where she throwed him down last neght. She must ha’ waited for t’ mornin’ oop train. Anyway, we fahnd her lyin’ there this mornin’, poor lass!” Bram had reached the group. He forced his way through, and looked down at the burden the men were carrying towards the very shed under the roof of which Chris had died. The mutilated body, which had been decapitated by the heavy wheels of the train, was only recognizable by the torn and stained clothing as that of Meg Tyzack. Bram staggered away, with his hand over his eyes. CHAPTER XXVI. THE GOAL REACHED. No sooner had Bram recovered himself, and gone to the office without another question to any one, avoiding the group and the sickening sight they surrounded, than he found one of the servants from Holme Park with a letter from Mr. Cornthwaite, asking him to come up to the house at once. He found his employer sitting in the study alone, in the very seat, the very attitude, he had seen him in so often. While outside the house looked mournful in the extreme with its drawn blinds; while the servants moved about with silent step and scared faces, the master sat, apparently as unchanged as a rock after a storm.