As he said this, he moved forward a few paces, when, finding his feet
glued to the ground by some adhesive substance, he stooped to feel what
it was, but instantly withdrew his hand, with an exclamation of horror.
"God in Heaven!" he cried, "the floor is covered with blood. Some foul
murder has been committed. The light!--the light!"
Astounded at his cries, Thames sprang towards him. At this moment,
Blueskin appeared with the lamp, and revealed a horrible spectacle,--the
floor deluged with blood,--various articles of furniture upset,--papers
scattered about,--the murdered man's cloak, trampled upon, and smeared
with gore,--his hat, crushed and similarly stained,--his sword,--the
ensanguined cloth,--with several other ghastly evidences of the
slaughterous deed. Further on, there were impressions of bloody
footsteps along the floor.
"Sir Rowland is murdered!" cried Jack, as soon as he could find a
tongue.
"It is plain he has been destroyed by his perfidious accomplice,"
rejoined Thames. "Oh God! how fearfully my father is avenged!"
"True," replied Jack, sternly; "but we have our uncle to avenge. What's
this?" he added, stooping to pick up a piece of paper lying at his
feet--it was Jonathan's memorandum. "This is the explanation of the
bloody deed."
"Here's a pocket-book full of notes, and a heavy bag of gold," said
Blueskin, examining the articles on the floor.
"The sum which incited the villain to the murder," replied Jack. "But he
can't be far off. He must be gone to dispose of the body. We shall have
him on his return."
"I'll see where these footsteps lead to," said Blueskin, holding the
light to the floor. "Here are some more papers, Captain."
"Give them to me," replied Jack. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "a letter,
beginning 'dearest Aliva,'--that's your mother's name, Thames."
"Let me see it," cried Thames, snatching it from him. "It _is_ addressed
to my mother," he added, as his eye glanced rapidly over it, "and by my
father. At length, I shall ascertain my name. Bring the light this
way--quick! I cannot decipher the signature."
Jack was about to comply with the request, when an unlooked-for
interruption occurred. Having traced the footsteps to the wall, and
perceiving no outlet, Blueskin elevated the lamp, and discovered marks
of bloody fingers on the boards.
"He must have gone this way," muttered Blueskin. "I've often heard of a
secret door in this room, though I never saw it. It must be somewhere
hereabouts. Ah!" he exclaimed, as his eye fell upon a small knob in the
wall, "there's the spring!"
He touched it, and the door flew open.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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