She had taken her nightly way with the search parties and at dawn she was in Sheepstor. There, too weary to return home, she had gone to the wife of Charles Moses and slept in her house. For several hours they had not wakened her, but suffered her to sleep on. She rose a little before midday; and then she heard that Bartley Crocker had left England very early on the previous morning, about the same time that her sister-in-law disappeared. All search for Margaret had proved fruitless and news of her death did not reach Sheepstor until Rhoda left it. Several met her and asked for news, but none knew the truth. She believed now that the facts were clear and she strung herself to tell her brother what had doubtless happened. At dusk she returned to ’Meavy Cot’ and found David, with his head on the kitchen table, fast asleep. Outside it was growing dark and some chained, ravenous dogs were barking loudly; inside all was silent. David slumbered uneasily owing to his position, but his sister hesitated to wake him. First she mended the fire and made tea. She drank to fortify herself. Then she went out, fed the dogs, and loitered until darkness gathered upon the earth. Then she came in and lighted a lamp. Still her brother slept. She reviewed the words that she must speak, and then she wakened him. Reluctantly, irritably, he returned to consciousness and stared at her. "What the devil--?" he said; then he rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Take a dish of tea," she said. "I’m back. There’s no news of her yet, but I believe--" Slowly he began to connect his thoughts and link himself up with life again. "I believe--I’m afraid I know--I’m almost certain I know." "What do you know?" he asked. Then the truth returned to him in a wave that submerged him. "My God, my God!" he cried out. "’Tis bitter enough, but maybe the best that could have happened--for you, David." Rhoda arrested him. She was looking straight into his face. "Make yourself clear," he said. "What do you know--or what do you think you know? What’s done be done, anyway." "’Tis done---and better done, since it had to be." "What do you know?" he repeated harshly. "Don’t beat about. How much do you know? D’you know why? What’s the reason? I can’t go on with my life till I know who have done it. She never did, I’ll swear to that. ’Twas forced upon her from outside." "Maybe I can’t tell you more than you’ve found out for yourself, if you speak so," she answered. "Yet ’twas she and only she could have done it. None else had the power to." "Stop!" he cried out. "Don’t play no more with words, if you don’t want to see me go mad afore your eyes. Speak clear and tell me exactly what’s in your head. I can’t stand no more cloudy speeches. My mind’s a frozen fog. If you’ve got the power to throw one ray of light, then do it. Light, I say--but there’s no more light for me in this world now."