don't need it, I assure you,' said she. 'I don't think it would
be wise to tell Miss Fowler about it, do you? Her heart is so irritable
in this weather.'

Dr. Hennis looked at her admiringly as he packed up his bag.

'No. Don't tell anybody till we're sure,' he said, and hastened to the
'Royal Oak,' while Mary went on with the paraffin. The village behind
her was as quiet as usual, for the news had not yet spread. She frowned
a little to herself, her large nostrils expanded uglily, and from time
to time she muttered a phrase which Wynn, who never restrained himself
before his womenfolk, had applied to the enemy. 'Bloody pagans! They
_are_ bloody pagans. But,' she continued, falling back on the teaching
that had made her what she was, 'one mustn't let one's mind dwell on
these things.'

Before she reached the house Dr. Hennis, who was also a special
constable, overtook her in his car.

'Oh, Miss Postgate,' he said, 'I wanted to tell you that that accident
at the "Royal Oak" was due to Gerritt's stable tumbling down. It's been
dangerous for a long time. It ought to have been condemned.'

'I thought I heard an explosion too,' said Mary.

'You might have been misled by the beams snapping. I've been looking at
'em. They were dry-rotted through and through. Of course, as they broke,
they would make a noise just like a gun.'

'Yes?' said Mary politely.

'Poor little Edna was playing underneath it,' he went on, still holding
her with his eyes, 'and that and the tiles cut her to pieces, you see?'

'I saw it,' said Mary, shaking her head. 'I heard it too.'

'Well, we cannot be sure.' Dr. Hennis changed his tone completely. 'I
know both you and Nurse Eden (I've been speaking to her) are perfectly
trustworthy, and I can rely on you not to say anything--yet at least. It
is no good to stir up people unless--'

'Oh, I never do--anyhow,' said Mary, and Dr. Hennis went on to the
county town.

After all, she told herself, it might, just possibly, have been the
collapse of the old stable that had done all those things to poor little
Edna. She was sorry she had even hinted at other things, but Nurse Eden
was discretion itself. By the time she reached home the affair seemed
increasingly remote by its very monstrosity. As she came in, Miss Fowler
told her that a couple of aeroplanes had passed half an hour ago.

'I thought I heard them,' she replied, 'I'm going down to the garden
now. I've got the paraffin.'

'Yes, but--wha