Once that night I slept, but it was a short sleep, and worse than waking. The nightmare of my fate was less horrible than the nightmare of my fancy, and, shuddering with terror, I paced the floor to drive away the chance of its recurrence; I pressed my clenched fingers tightly on my breast to drive away the chill of that Phantom Hand, that had frozen my very soul. Why had that long-forgotten terror come back to haunt me now? CHAPTER XXX. "Death is King--and _Vivat Rex!_"--TENNYSON. It was late on the following morning when I entered the breakfast-room; very fluttering and nervous, I anticipated the usual allusions to my pale looks, and Grace's amiable bantering, but quite a different scene from the one I had expected met me. Too much absorbed to notice my entrance, the whole group were clustered together, intent upon the newly-arrived paper. They had evidently devoured it, and now were commenting eagerly upon the news it contained, and referring constantly to it. Only Mr. Rutledge, with knit brow, leaning forward on the table, seemed to note my entrance. "I never heard a more cool-blooded, revolting thing," said Phil. "I suppose the whole country is alive with it now," remarked the captain. "The wretch can hardly escape detection, thanks to the telegraph, railroads, and police of this nineteenth century. The news, no doubt, has spread far and wide by this time." "It will haunt me till the day of my death!" exclaimed Josephine. "I never read so horrible a murder." "Oh," said Grace, coolly, "it's only because we knew him that it seems so dreadful. There are just as awful things in the paper every day." "There has never been anything in this part of the country though, I fancy, that has caused as much excitement," said Phil. "Thomas tells me that the furore in the village is intense; the men do not think of going to their work, but stand in groups about, while most of them have formed themselves into a sort of vigilance committee, and swear that the murderer shall be tracked. The poor doctor, you know, was quite a popular man, and such a thing as this is so unheard of, that the country-people are entirely beside themselves about it." "What is it you are talking about?" I faltered, leaning on the back of a chair for support, and trying to be self-possessed. "Oh! Why, have you just come down?" exclaimed Grace, delighted to find a fresh auditor for the awful tale that she seemed really to enjoy relating. "Why, you must know that last night, a man coming from Norbury, late in the evening, discovered the body of Dr. Hugh lying at the entrance of a wood about four miles from the village, stabbed in four or five places, and quite cold. His horse and gig were tied to a tree close by, and the footprints on the ground beside where the body was found, show that the poor wretch did not yield to his murderer without a desperate struggle. His hands were"----