constables. One he dispatched for a doctor; to the other he confided the custody of Lady Francis Onslow.
"I charge you formally, madam, with the murder of this man on your own confession, which I have written down, and I warn you that anything else you may say will be given in evidence against you."
"Yes," said Fenella, "he attempted my life, and I killed him."
"You are my prisoner, my lady," said the inspector; "but you may call in any friend you wish to see. At the same time, I again warn you that anything you may say will be taken down and may be given in evidence against you. I will do my duty as considerately as possible, but I have a duty to perform, and that of course you will understand."
The first editions of the newspapers gave conflicting reports of the count's death.
For a time the public did not understand whether the count had been murdered in his bed by burglars, whether he was the victim of Nihilistic vengeance, or whether he had committed suicide; but on the morning following the tragedy they were regaled with all the strange story and much more besides.
The confession of Lady Francis Onslow was a text upon which everybody had a sermon to preach. But it was speedily a point of comment
