Iris stooped over the prostate man, to examine his face.

Blood flowing from a frightful wound in his throat, was the first thing that she saw.

Her eyes closed instinctively, recoiling from that ghastly sight.

The next instant she opened them again, and saw his face.
Dying or dead, it was the face of Lord Harry.
The shriek that burst from her, on making that horrible discovery, was heard by two men who were crossing the lower heath at some distance.
They saw the women, and ran to them.

One of the men was a labourer; the other, better dressed, looked like a foreman of works.