It is a heavy loss to you too." The Hindoo rose slowly, the tears streaming down his face.
"He was a good master," he said, "and I loved him just as I loved the Colonel, sahib.

Ramoo would have given his life for him." With his hand upon Ramoo's shoulder, Mark left the room; he passed a group of women huddled together with blanched faces, at a short distance down the passage, the news that the Squire's door could not be opened and the sounds made by its being broken in having called them together.
Mark could not speak.

He silently shook his head and passed on.

As he reached his room he heard shrieks and cries behind him, as the men informed them of what had taken place.

On reaching his door, the one opposite opened, and Mrs.Cunningham in a dressing gown came out.
"What is the matter, Mark, and what are these cries about ?" "A dreadful thing has happened, Mrs.Cunningham; my father has been murdered in the night.