"What is this terrible story, Mr. Ducaine?" she exclaimed. "Is there really a shipwreck? I can see no signs of it."
"No shipwreck that I know of, Lady Angela," I answered. "There is a dead man here—one only. I have heard of nothing else."
Her eyes followed my outstretched hand, and she saw the body half on the sands, half on the marsh. She shivered a little.
"Poor fellow!" she exclaimed. "Is it any one from the village, Mr.
Ducaine?"
"It is a stranger, Lady Angela," I answered. "We think that his body must have been washed in from the sea."
She measured the distance from high-water mark with a glance, and shook her head.
"Too far away," she declared.
"There was a wild sea last night," I answered, "and such a tide as I have never seen here before."
"What are you doing with it?" she asked, pointing with her whip.
"John Hefford is bringing a wagon," I answered. "I suppose he had better take it to the police station."