THE DISCOVERY OF DANIELS
red wrapper, her gray, straggling locks half concealing her face. Between them was the knife, a thin-bladed, deadly poniard.
The stupefaction of horror gripped us, as we stood staring down at the sight. For a moment no one of us grasped the full meaning of this closing tragedy. Then Donald knelt and touched the bodies.
"Both dead," he said soberly, and looted up at us. "No doubt Daniels died first, from the knife wound, but he must have reached her in the struggle, hurling her down with him. As she fell, her head struck the rack and the knife dropped from her hand."
Tenderly he pressed back the gray hair, revealing the woman's face. Death had softened its expression, giving a younger look; yet even now it retained the appearance of suffering. A throb of pity came to me at I looked.
"I remember her now," Donald said gravely "but how the years have changed her! Calvert, she was your mother."
For answer, Dunn dropped upon his knees, and bowed his head over the motionless body.
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