He set down the origin of the sound to one of the superstitious freaks or frolicsome scrimmages between sweethearts that still survived in Hintock from old-English times; and waited on where he stood till ten minutes had passed.

Feeling then a little uneasy, his mind reverted to the scream; and he went forward over the summit and down the embowered incline, till he reached the pair of sister oaks with the narrow opening between them.
Fitzpiers stumbled and all but fell.

Stretching down his hand to ascertain the obstruction, it came in contact with a confused mass of silken drapery and iron-work that conveyed absolutely no explanatory idea to his mind at all.

It was but the work of a moment to strike a match; and then he saw a sight which congealed his blood.
The man-trap was thrown; and between its jaws was part of a woman's clothing--a patterned silk skirt--gripped with such violence that the iron teeth had passed through it, skewering its tissue in a score of places.

He immediately recognized the skirt as that of one of his wife's gowns--the gown that she had worn when she met him on the very last occasion.
Fitzpiers had often studied the effect of these instruments when examining the collection at Hintock House, and the conception instantly flashed through him that Grace had been caught, taken out mangled by some chance passer, and carried home, some of her clothes being left behind in the difficulty of getting her free.