All the rest of the morning it was the same thing. He did not go out, but seemed in a state of restless excitement that he could not suppress. Then about twelve o’clock a rumor reached Stourton Grange that a murder had been committed in Fern Dene. The gardener heard it outside and hurried into the kitchen to tell his news. It was not known at first who it was. A woman’s body had been found in the Dene, that was all, and when Mrs. Henderson went into her larder to inspect its contents and order the dinner, her cook followed her and told her mistress what she had heard.
Mrs. Henderson turned actually faint as she listened. Tom’s strange conduct instantly recurred to her mind. But no, what folly, she told herself the next minute. But, nevertheless, she went into the breakfast-room where Tom was sitting pretending to read the newspapers, with trembling footsteps.
“Tom,” she said, “they say something dreadful has happened in Fern Dene—”
She was looking at her son’s face as she spoke, and the ghastly pallor that at once spread over it filled her own heart with terror.
“What has happened?” he asked, hoarsely.
“They—say a murder,” answered Mrs. Henderson in a faltering voice.
“A murder! What folly!” repeated Tom, and he rose hastily and flung the newspaper on the floor as he did so. His whole manner indicated extreme agitation, and his mother grew pale as she watched him.
“What cock-and-bull story have you got hold of now, I wonder?” he went on harshly, a few moments later.
“They say a woman’s body has been found in the Dene,” answered Mrs. Henderson, slowly, and Tom Henderson visibly started as she spoke.