only what had been done last night at the Rock but why it had been done and everything else about it. He was concerned in making her talk only to learn what she knew and what disturbance she threatened to him.
"You know about it; all; all!" she cried aloud. "Oh, grandfather!" And she shrank back before him under her share of the horror and guilt of what had been done.
This gave him a twinge; he was not prepared for her taking it that way. Whatever he had planned to say to her since the hour in the night when she had followed him to the attic and he had driven her downstairs, he now was caught for a moment at a loss. But he quickly restored himself.
"You just say I don't know what he's done—Miss Platt's husband—and now I know about it—all—all!" he mocked the despair of her cry. Suppose you speak to me calmly and plain, if you can. What's all exciting you so much, and what did you go out to the Rock for before sunrise?"
"To see what Kincheloe—what you had Kincheloe do."
"Oh, I had Kincheloe do something out there, did I?"
She could not answer him for the suffocation in her breast; muscles seemed to be tugging tight all through her; she felt so stiff that it was as though she could not move and if she lost her balance, as she swayed, she must topple over.
"Well, what did you see?" her grandfather demanded of her.
"That he was not there, grandfather!"
"Who—Kincheloe?"
"Oh—you know!"
