not told us what happened to _you_."

Going down the old stone staircase, I gave them a brief account of my
arrest in London and journey down there, with my imprisonment during
the night in the tower.

"Well," remarked St. Nivel, while his sister murmured a few words of
sympathy, "I haven't quite got the hang of the thing yet, but you must
tell us more at lunch."

We found that the man lying at the foot of the tower was certainly
dead; his neck was broken.

We could therefore do nothing hut leave the gamekeeper in charge of the
body while we despatched the boy to warn the police and fetch a doctor.

With a shilling in his pocket to get his dinner, the young yokel set
off on his journey, and we strolled away.

"I don't think we'll shoot any more this morning, Jack," Ethel said,
"this affair has made me feel a bit shaky."

"Then you had better come up to the house with us, Bill," said her
brother, slapping me on the back, "and have some lunch. Then you can
tell us all your adventures."

I readily agreed, and we had walked some little distance when I heard
footsteps running behind us; we stopped and turned. It was the country
boy we had sent to the police.

"I forgot to show you this yere sir," he said, opening his hand, in
which he held something carefully clasped.

"What is it?" I asked as he addressed me.

"It's this yere _heye_, sir," he answered. "It don't belong to the
dead 'un; he's got two."

I glanced into his open palm and beheld two halves of a brown
artificial eye, made of glass, and much shot with imitation blood!

* * * * *

"No," observed my friend, Inspector Bull, "there's been no body found
on Lansdown, and I should have heard of it if there had been without a
doubt."

The inspector finished a liberal tumbler of Lord St. Nivel's Scotch
whisky and soda, and set the tumbler carefully down on the table as if
it were a piece of very rare china.

My cousin, who was standing on the hearthrug, laughed heartily.

"That was only another piece of the rogue's plot," he said. "They must
have had a clever head to direct them."

"Yes," I put in, "a clever head with only one eye in it, if I'm not
much mistaken."

The inspector gave me a doubtful look; then his eye reverted to the
whisky decanter upon which it had been fondly fixed. St. Nivel
observed it and pushed the whisky towards him.

"Thank you, my lord," said the police officer, helping himself with a
look o