Whatsoever a Man Soweth
We closed the old window behind us lest the night-watchman should discover it open and raise an alarm, and then started off together straight across the park, in the direction of the Long Avenue that led away for a mile and a half down to the village.

The night was bright and starlit, but over the grass hung a heavy white mist, especially in the hollows.

For a long time neither of us spoke, but presently, as we sped briskly along, Eric said,—

“We must pretend that Rainer has aroused our curiosity, otherwise the villagers will think our visit strange at this hour. Our first object must be to establish the fellow’s identity. At present we know his name to be Charles—and that’s all.”

With this I agreed, and presently we arrived at the fine old Tudor gate-house, and passed out from the park into the broad highway that ran over Bow Hill to Chichester. Half a mile along the road we entered the quaint, peaceful little village of East Marden, with its ancient church and long row of comfortable cottages, now, however, in darkness. Five miles from the railway, it still preserved its rural traditions. There was no inn, and consequently little distress; the village retired early and rose with the sun, a pleasant little place prosperous under the proprietorship of the Scarcliffs.

Along the deserted little street we searched until we came to the constable’s cottage, in the window of which a light was burning, and knocking at the door it was opened by Mr Booth, as the villagers called him, a big, round-faced officer in constabulary uniform.

“Oh! beg pardon, gentlemen!” he exclaimed, recognising us. “I thought it were Dr Richards. They’ve telephoned from the house to call him. He ought to be here by now.”

“What’s the matter, Booth? What has happened?” I asked, stepping into his clean little parlour where his wife greeted us with a curtsey. “Rainer came to us and said that somebody had been found dead, so we came out to hear all about it.”

“Yes, sir, that’s right. John Harris found him some hours ago; but I was out on my beat across at Elsted, and they ’ad to fetch me. I’ve been up to Charlton Wood and seen ’im, but I’ve left ’im there till the gov’nor comes. We’ve strict orders never to move a body without the superintendent sees it first.”

“But tell us all about it,” I urged. “Who’s the man, and what has happened?”


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