“What’s the great idea?” he called out, cheerily. “A serious matter, Doctor Varian,” replied Landon. “An accident, or sudden illness——” “No!” the doctor took the remaining steps at a bound. “Who?” For answer, Landon conducted him inside the hall, and in an instant Varian was on his knees beside the stricken man. “My God!” he said, in a hoarse whisper, “Frederick’s dead!” “A stroke?” asked Landon, while Claire Blackwood stood by, unable to speak at all. “No, man, no! Shot! See the blood,—shot through the heart. What does it—what can it mean? Where’s Betty?” “We don’t know,” Claire spoke now. “Doctor Varian, are you sure he’s dead? Can nothing be done to save him?” “Nothing. He died almost instantly, from internal hemorrhage. But how unbelievable! How impossible!” “Who shot him?” Landon burst out, impetuously; “or,—is it suicide?” “Where’s the pistol?” said the doctor, looking about. Both men searched, Landon trying to overcome his repugnance to such close association with the dead, but no weapon of any sort could be found. “I—I can’t see it,——” Varian wiped his perspiring brow. “I can’t see any solution. But, this won’t do. We must get the others up here. Oh, heavens, what shall we do with Minna?” “Let me go down, and take her home with me,” suggested Claire Blackwood, eager to do anything that might help or ease the coming disclosure of the tragedy. “Oh, I don’t know,——” demurred Varian. “You see, she’s got to know,—of course, she must be told at once,—and then,—she’ll have to look after Betty,—where is the child? Anyway, my wife is a tower of strength,—she’ll be able to manage Mrs Varian,—even if she has violent hysterics,—which, of course, she will!” “Command me, Doctor Varian,” said Landon. “I will do whatever you advise.” “All right; I’ll be glad of your assistance. Suppose you go back to the people down there on the rocks, and then,—let me see,—suppose you tell my wife first what has happened; then, ask her to break the news to Mrs Varian,—she’ll know how best to do it. Then,—oh, Lord,—I don’t know what then! They’ll have to come back here,—I suppose,—what else can they do? I don’t know, Mrs Blackwood, but your idea of taking Mrs Varian away with you is a good one. If she’ll go.” “She won’t go,” said Claire, decidedly, “if she knows the truth. If I take her, it’ll have to be on some false pretense,——” “Won’t do,” said Varian, briefly. “We’ve got no right to keep her in ignorance of her husband’s death. No; she must be told. That girl of mine, too,—Eleanor, she hasn’t her mother’s poise,—she’s likely to go to pieces,—always does, in the presence of death. Oh, what a moil!” “Here’s another thing,” said Landon, a little hesitantly. “What about the authorities?” “Yes,—yes,——” the doctor spoke impatiently, “I thought of that,—who are they, in this God-forsaken place? Town Constable, I suppose.”