had no idea of attempting to escape the consequences
of my deed. Then a light broke upon me. Had anybody seen her since she
left the Three Tranters? Had they not, she was already believed by the
parishioners to be dust and ashes. I should never be found out.

'Upon this I acted.

'The first question was how to dispose of the body. The impulse of the
moment was to bury her at once in the pit between the engine-house and
waterfall; but it struck me that I should not have time. It was now four
o'clock, and the working-men would soon be stirring about the place. I
would put off burying her till the next night. I carried her indoors.

'In turning the outhouse into a workshop, earlier in the season, I
found, when driving a nail into the wall for fixing a cupboard, that the
wall sounded hollow. I examined it, and discovered behind the plaster an
old oven which had long been disused, and was bricked up when the house
was prepared for me.

'To unfix this cupboard and pull out the bricks was the work of a few
minutes. Then, bearing in mind that I should have to remove the body
again the next night, I placed it in a sack, pushed it into the oven,
packed in the bricks, and replaced the cupboard.

'I then went to bed. In bed, I thought whether there were any very
remote possibilities that might lead to the supposition that my wife was
not consumed by the flames of the burning house. The thing which struck
me most forcibly was this, that the searchers might think it odd that no
remains whatever should be found.

'The clinching and triumphant deed would be to take the body and place
it among the ruins of the destroyed house. But I could not do this, on
account of the men who were watching against an outbreak of the fire.
One remedy remained.

'I arose again, dressed myself, and went down to the outhouse. I must
take down the cupboard again. I did take it down. I pulled out the
bricks, pulled out the sack, pulled out the corpse, and took her keys
from her pocket and the watch from her side.

'I then replaced everything as before.

'With these articles in my pocket I went out of the yard, and took my
way through the withy copse to the churchyard, entering it from the
back. Here I felt my way carefully along till I came to the nook where
pieces of bones from newly-dug graves are sometimes piled behind the
laurel-bushes. I had been earnestly hoping to find a skull among these
old bones; but though I had frequently seen one or tw