"We've left the Bible just as it was," said Howse slowly. "It's just covered over, so that the Major, if ever he _should_ come home again, though I fear that's very unlikely"--he dolefully shook his head--"may see what it was her eyes last rested on. Major Guthrie, if you would excuse me for saying so, ma'am, has always been a far more religious gentleman than his mother was a religious lady. I feel sure it would comfort him to know that just before her end she was reading the Book." "It was open at the twenty-second Psalm," added Ponting, "and when I came in that time and saw her without her seeing me, she must have been just reading the verse about the dog." "The dog?" said Mrs. Otway, surprised. "Yes, madam. 'Deliver my soul from the sword: my darling from the power of the dog.'" Howse here chimed in, "Her darling, that's the Major, and the dog is the enemy, ma'am." He paused, and then went on, in a brisker, more cheerful tone: "I telegraphed the very first thing to Mr. Allen--that's Major Guthrie's lawyer, ma'am. The Major told me I was to do that, if anything awkward happened. Then it just occurred to me that I would telephone to the Deanery. The Dean was out here yesterday afternoon, ma'am, and Mrs. Guthrie liked him very much. Long ago, when she lived in London, she used to know the parents of the young gentleman to whom Miss Haworth is engaged to be married. They had quite a long pleasant talk about it all. I had meant, ma'am, if you'll excuse my telling you, to telephone to you next, and then I heard as how you were coming here. The Major did tell me the morning he went away that if Mrs. Guthrie seemed really ailing, I was to ask you to be kind enough to come and see her. Of course I knew where he was going, and that he'd be away for a long time, though he didn't say anything to me about it. But he knew that I knew, right enough!" "Had Mrs. Guthrie no near relation at all--no sister, no nieces?" asked Mrs. Otway, in a low voice. Again she felt she was living in a dreamland of secret, poignant emotions shadowed by a great suspense and fear. "No. Nothing of the kind," said Howse confidently. "And on Major Guthrie's side there was only distant cousins. It's a peculiar kind of situation altogether, ma'am, if I may say so. Quite a long time may pass before we know whether the Major is alive or dead. 'Wounded and missing'? We all knows as how there is only one thing worse that could be than that--don't we, ma'am?" "I don't quite know what you mean, Howse." "Why, the finding and identifying of the Major's body, ma'am." * * * * * Through the still, silent house there came a loud, long, insistent ringing--that produced by an old-fashioned front door bell. "I expect it's Mr. Allen," exclaimed Howse. "He wired as how he'd be down by two o'clock." And a few moments later a tall, dark, clean-shaven man was shaking hands, with the words, "I think you must be Mrs. Otway?"