ther.

Tom, Eben and Rob armed themselves and went out. But the branches of
Marnhoul wood stood up against the sky, black, serried and silent. The
fields beneath spread empty and grey. The sough of the wind and the
fleeing cloud of night was all they saw or heard. They were soon within
the house again, happy to be there and the door barred stoutly upon
them.

Except for little Louis, who was already in bed on the other side of the
house where his chamber was, and so knew nothing of the occurrence till
the morning, there was no sleep for any that night at Heathknowes. At
the first clear break of day Tom and Eben took the cart-horses and rode
over to tell Dr. Gillespie, General Johnstone, and Mr. Shepstone
Oglethorpe, who were all Justices of the Peace, of what had happened.
They came, the General the most imposing, with a great army cloak and a
star showing beneath the collar.

In the little detached sitting-room, which till the coming of the
Maitlands had been used as a cheese-room, Mr. Richard Poole sat, as he
had been found, his head still bowed upon his arms, but on his face,
when they raised it to look, there was an absolute terror, so that even
the General, who had seen many a day of battle, was glad to lay it down
again.

They took such testimony as was to be had, which was but little, and all
tending to one startling conclusion. Suddenly, swiftly, noiselessly,
within hearing of eight or nine people, in a defensible house, with arms
at hand, Mr. Richard Poole, of the firm of Smart, Poole and Smart, had
been done to death.

Yet he had known something, though perhaps not the full extent of his
danger. We recalled his silences, his moodiness as he approached the
farm--the manner in which he had at once put aside all claims, even on a
market Wednesday, that he might ride and speak with a man who, if he
were not a felon, was certainly no honourable acquaintance for such as
Mr. Richard.

The three gentlemen looked at each other and took snuff from the
Doctor's gold box.

"Very serious, sir!" said Mr. Shepstone tentatively. For indeed he had
not many ideas--a fact which the others charitably put down to his being
an Episcopalian. Really he wanted to find out what they thought before
committing himself.

"Tempestuous Theophilus!" cried the General, who in the presence of the
Doctor always swore by unknown saints--to relieve himself, as was
thought--"but 'tis more serious than you think. A fellow like this
aliv