"My God! what is this?"
The new-comer darted forward, gazed for a moment into the dead face of
poor Victoria, then staggered back, clutching the arm of August Bordine
to save himself from falling.
"Suicide, I fear," answered Bordine for lack of words.
"Suicide! My soul, is Victoria dead?"
Then the last comer knelt down beside the prostrate girl, and lifted her
golden head to his knee.
His cries and moans were heartrending.
In vain Bordine tried to soothe the young man, but he found that a
brother's grief was beyond assuagement.
For many minutes Ransom Vane sat and moaned and wept beside his dead
sister.
Then he became calm suddenly, and sprang to his feet, glancing about him
in a way that caused Bordine to fear for his reason.
"Suicide you said?" turning fiercely upon August Bordine.
"I said it might be."
"It is not. Vic was happy; why should she take her own life?"
"I do not know."
"She was murdered."
"It may be so."
"You know it is. Look! See where the steel of the assassin entered her
poor neck, and cut to the life. Oh, Vic, my poor darling! you shall be
avenged.
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