They saw nothing, so
they crouched down listening for the voice.
"Steve, Stevy dear, wake up and let us go away. Oh, why are you sleeping
when every moment is precious? He will come, Stevy, I know he will, and
kill you, dear!" The voice was very near. Simultaneously the intruders
looked up the bank, and, at the foot of a standing hemlock, saw a woman,
with gray hair hanging loose over her shoulders, who knelt by a
recumbent figure. "Steve, dear brother," she continued, "do wake up! You
used to be so good and sensible." Coristine crept nearer behind some
bushes till he was within a very short distance of the pair. With a
white, sad face, trembling in every limb, he came back as silently to
the minister, and whispered: "It's poor Nash, and she calls him brother;
Mr. Errol, he's murdered, he's dead." The warm-hearted Errol, who had
come out to look after the detective's safety, at once became a hero.
"Bide you there, Coristine," he said, "bide there till I call you." Then
he arose and went to the spot, but the woman, though he was in full
view, took no notice of him. He stooped and touched her.
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