The chase was on.

It was something more than curiosity or a chance exercise of their duty which had brought them here.

Their object was definite, and if the sight of the low gallery in which I lay, should suggest to them all its possibilities as a hiding-place, I should know in just one moment more what it is for the helpless quarry to feel the clutch of the captor.
But the moment passed without any attempt at approach on their part, and when I lifted my head again it was to catch a glimpse of their side faces as they turned to look elsewhere for what they were plainly in search of.

An oath, muffled but stern, which was the first word above a whisper that I had heard issue from their lips, told me that they had reached _the_ room and had come upon the horror which lay there.

What would they say to it! Would they know who she was--her name, her quality, her story--and respect her dead as they certainly must have respected her living?
I listened but caught only a low murmur as they conferred together.