I pulled the Gazette from my pocket and handed it to him. He read aloud the passage describing the magic night on the lake.
'I don't know who they were,' he said. 'Probably something tasty from the Hanbridge Empire.'
We both observed a faint, amused smile on the face of Mrs Brindley, the smile of a woman who has suddenly discovered in her brain a piece of knowledge rare and piquant.
'I can guess who they were,' she said. 'In fact, I'm sure.'
'Who?'
'Annie Brett and—you know who.'
'What, down at the Tiger?'
'Certainly. Hush!' Mrs Brindley ran to the door and, opening it, listened. The faint, fretful cry of a child reached us. 'There! You've done it! I told you you would!'
She disappeared. Mr Brindley whistled.
'And who is Annie Brett?' I inquired.