"
"My dear Lydia," gasped Mr. Rogers, "we haven't come to play cricket!
Put down your bat and listen to me. There's the devil to pay in this
parish of yours. To begin with, we've found another body--"
"Eh? Where?"
"In the plantation under the slope here--close beside the path, and
about two gunshots off the lane."
"What have you done with it?"
"Two of your fellows are fetching it along. I was going to ask you
as a favour to let it lie here for the time while we follow up the
search."
"Of course you may. But who is it?"
"An old man in sea clothes. Harry knows him; says he hails from
Falmouth, and that his name is Coffin. And we've arrested a young
fellow on suspicion, though I begin to think he hasn't much to do
with it; but, as it happens, he comes from Falmouth too, and knows
the deceased."
Miss Belcher hitched an old riding-skirt off a peg and indued it over
her red flannel petticoat, fastening it about her waist with a
leathern strap and buckle.
"Well, the first thing is to fetch the body along, and then I'll go
down with you and have a look."
"I've halted the men about a hundred yards down the hill. I thought
perhaps you'd step straight along with me to the house, so as to be
out of the way when they--But, anyhow, if you insist on coming, we
can fetch across the cricket-field and down to the left, so that you
needn't meet it.
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