"You are correct, Mr. Thorold. I did good business there; and I learned, from the irresponsible chatter of the domestics, a few other facts which may also prove valuable."
He looked directly at Alan as he said this.
"Go on! go on!" said Thorold again. But he felt uneasy.
"I was turned out of the Good Samaritan by a hard-hearted landlady called--appropriately, I confess--Mrs. Timber. As the night was fine, I slept in the churchyard, opposite the tomb of Mr. Marlow. Soon after midnight I was awakened by voices. I looked out, and saw two men, one tall, the other short."
"Who were they?" Alan asked anxiously.
"One I knew later; the other one I am still in doubt about, as I did not see his face."
"But the names?"
"You shall hear the names, Clara Maria, when I am ready, not before. These men went into the tomb, remained there for some time, and came out with the body. They lifted it over the low wall of the churchyard, and went, I think, across the moor."
"You followed?" cried Alan breathlessly.
"No. I was afraid I might get into trouble, so I ran in the opposite direction. I slept the rest of the night in a hayrick far from the churchyard. Next day I sought the Moat House kitchen, and listened to the talk of the servants. Then I went away with the idea of seeing Miss Marlow at Bournemouth, as the servants said she was there with Mr. Thorold. On the moor I saw a hut. I went into it to eat a frugal meal. In it I found"--Cicero paused to give his words due effect--"a corpse."