She is bleeding to death." His quick eye noticed a change in the figure on the bed.

The face quivered ever so slightly, and the blue eyes half opened.

Then the stricken girl made an effort as though she wanted to sit up, but a sudden convulsion seized her, and she fell back on her pillow, with one little white hand, glittering with rings, flung above her head, as if she died in the act of invoking the retribution of a God of justice on the assassin who had blotted out her young life in agony and horror.
"She is dead," said Musard gently.

"This is a terrible business, and our first duty is to try and capture the monster who committed this foul crime." They stood there in silence for a moment, looking earnestly at one another.

Outside, somewhere in the woodland, there sounded the haunting gush of a night-bird's song, shivering through the quietness like a silver bell.