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I was crossing the stable-yard where I had gone to order the carriage
for my aunt, when an English groom, suddenly emerging from the
harness-room, touched his cap, saying--
"Have you 'eard, sir, of the awful affair up yonder?"
"Of what?" I asked quickly.
"Well, sir, there seems to have been a murder last night up in Rannoch
Wood," said the man quickly. "Holden, the gardener, has just come back
from that village and says that Mr. Leithcourt's under-gamekeeper as he
was going home at five this morning came upon a dead body."
"A dead body!" I exclaimed, feigning great surprise.
"Yes, sir--a youngish man. He'd been stabbed to the heart."
"A man!"
"Yes, sir--so Holden says."
"Call Holden. I'd like to know all he's heard," I said. And presently,
when the gardener emerged from the grape-house, I sought of him all the
particulars he had gathered.
"I don't know very much, sir," was the man's reply. "I went into the inn
for a glass of beer at eleven, as I always do, and heard them talking
about it.


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