shock, and prepared once more to take an
interest in the minor features of existence. Among these he counted
ability to eat as a sure sign of continued well-being in man or beast.

Grant, too, was slowly regaining poise.

"I hardly know what I am saying," he muttered. "At any rate, bring a rug.
I'll mount guard till you return with the policeman. There can be no
doubt, I suppose, that this poor creature is dead."

"Dead as a stone," said Bates with conviction. "Why, her's bin in there
hours," and he nodded toward the water. "Besides, if I knows anythink of
a crack on t'head, her wur outed before she went into t'river.... But who
i' t'world can she be?"

"If you don't fetch that rug I'll go for it myself," said Grant,
whereupon Bates made off.

He was soon back again with a carriage rug, which Grant helped him to
spread over the dripping body. Then he hastened to the village, taking a
path that avoided the house.

The lawn and river bank of The Hollies could only be overlooked from the
steep wooded cliff opposite, and none but an adventurous boy would ever
think of climbing down that almost impassable rampart of rock,
brushwood, and tree-roots. At any rate, when left alone with the ghastly
evidence of a tragedy, Grant troubled only to satisfy himself that no one
was watching from the house. Assured on that point, he lifted a corner of
the rug, and, apparently, forced himself to scrutinize the dead woman's
face. He seemed to search therein for some reassuring token, but found
none, because he shook his head, dropped the rug, and walked a few paces
dejectedly.

Then, hardly knowing what he was about, he relighted his pipe, but had
hardly put it in his mouth before he knocked out the tobacco.

Clearly, he was thinking hard, mapping out some line of conduct, and
the outlook must have been dark indeed, judging by his somber and
undecided aspect.

More than once he looked up at the attic window of the cottage which had
drawn his eyes before tragedy had come so swiftly to his very feet. But,
if he hoped to see anyone, he was disappointed, though, in the event, it
proved that his real fear was lest the person he half expected to see
should look out.

He was not disturbed in that way, however. Fish rose in the river; birds
sang in the trees; a water-wagtail skipped nimbly from rock to rock in
the shallows; honey-laden bees hummed past to the many hives in the
postmaster's garden. These were the normal sights and soun