‘Not go?’ cried the old man, suddenly rousing himself from the lethargy into which he had temporarily fallen. ‘What are you saying, Hindes? Of course we must go. Don’t you see how this has come about? That villain has murdered her; he stole her from me first, and then he killed her. Who else would have pushed her over the cliff? My poor butchered lamb! my pretty Jenny! my beautiful, innocent daughter! Oh! but we will be avenged on him, never fear; we’ll see him brought to justice and give a hand to set him swinging. My poor child! my murdered darling! I can see how the whole damnable trick was done!’ ‘You must not heed what he says,’ whispered the doctor to Henry Hindes, ‘the shock has been too much for him, though I broke it as gently as I could. You must get him to bed and give him a sleeping draught, but don’t listen to any nonsense he may talk. There never was a clearer case of misadventure. The poor girl went out on the cliffs alone and fell over them. The coroner can bring in no other verdict.’ ‘But why, then, need we attend?’ asked Hindes, with quivering lips; ‘it will be a fearful trial for all of us. What do we need more than your assurance of the calamity that has befallen?’ ‘You may need nothing more, Mr Hindes, but the law needs your deposition as to what you know of the matter.’ ‘I know nothing--nothing--’ repeated Hindes. ‘Then you can say so,’ answered Dr M‘Coll, shortly. ‘No, we know nothing as yet,’ exclaimed Mr Crampton, eagerly, ‘but we _will_ know it. We will not rest till we have got at the bottom of this infamy. If ever a poor child was murdered, my girl has been.’ ‘Papa, papa,’ wailed Mrs Crampton from the sofa, ‘don’t speak like that, or you will break my heart.’ ‘Ay, my poor woman,’ said her husband, ‘you’ve plenty of cause to greet. They’ve taken your ewe lamb from you. You had but one left, and the Lord let her be done to death, without stretching forth His hand to save. And yet they say He cares for us! But the murderer shall be brought to justice, never fear. I’ll see to that.’ ‘Oh! if he goes on like this he’ll kill me,’ sobbed the tortured mother. ‘Mr Crampton,’ interposed the doctor, ‘we all feel deeply for you in this sore affliction, but you must not bring unmeaning accusations against anyone. There is no question of how your poor daughter came by her death. It was an unfortunate accident, nothing more.’ ‘I know better, sir, I know better,’ replied Mr Crampton. ‘You can’t deceive me. My lamb was murdered, and may God’s deepest curse rest--’ ‘Oh! stop, stop,’ cried Henry Hindes, holding up his hand. ‘It is terrible to hear you blaspheming in this manner, without the least authority to do so. It will not ease your own pain, Crampton, and may add to it hereafter. For your wife’s sake and your own, let me take you to your room, where you can think over this terrible news in quiet. Trust in God, Crampton, trust in God. There is nothing else to be done in a time like the present.’