She then proceeded to undress: but had only taken off her gown, when she started and listened; for a cry of distress reached her from outside the house. She darted to the window and threw it open. Then she heard a cry more distinct. "Help! help!" It was a clear starlight night, but no moon. The mere shone before her, and the cries were on the bank. Now came something more alarming still. A flash: a pistol shot: and an agonized voice cried loudly, "Murder! Help! Murder!" That voice she knew directly. It was Griffith Gaunt's. CHAPTER V Ryder ran screaming, and alarmed the other servants. All the windows that looked on the mere were hung open. But no more sounds were heard. A terrible silence brooded now over those clear waters. The female servants huddled together, and quaked; for who could doubt that a bloody deed had been done? It was some time before they mustered the presence of mind to go and tell Mrs. Gaunt. At last they opened her door. She was not in her room. Ryder ran to Griffith's. It was locked. She called to him. He made no reply. They burst the door open. He was not there: and the window was open. While their tongues were all going, in consternation, Mrs. Gaunt was suddenly among them, very pale. They turned, and looked at her aghast. "What means all this?" said she. "Did I not hear cries outside?" "Ay," said Ryder: "Murder! and a pistol fired. Oh, my poor master!" Mrs. Gaunt was white as death; but self-possessed. "Light torches this moment, and search the place," said she. There was only one man in the house, and he declined to go out alone. So Ryder and Mrs. Gaunt went with him, all three bearing lighted links. They searched the place where Ryder had heard the cries. They went up and down the whole bank of the mere, and east their torches; red light over the placid waters themselves. But there was nothing to be seen, alive or dead; no trace either of calamity or crime. They roused the neighbors, and came back to the house with their clothes all draggled and dirty. Mrs. Gaunt took Ryder apart, and asked her if she could guess at what time of the night Griffith had made his escape. "He is a villain," said she, "yet I would not have him come to harm, God knows. There are thieves abroad. But I hope he ran away as soon as your back was turned, and so fell not in with them." "Humph!" said Ryder. Then, looking Mrs. Gaunt In the face, she said, quietly, "Where were you when you heard the cries?" "I was on the other side of the house." "What, out o'doors, at that time of night!" "Ay; I was in the grove. Praying." "Did you hear any voice you knew?" "No: all was too indistinct. I heard a pistol, but no words. Did you?" "I heard no more than you, madam," said Ryder, trembling. No one went to bed any more that night in Hernshaw Castle. CHAPTER VI