“‘Yes,’ said the other; ‘but who is to do it?’
“‘Why, James Maitland,’ said the other.
“‘But suppose she screamed—wouldn’t her screams be heard? And if her screams were heard, everybody would know it wasn’t suicide.’
“‘No,’ said the other, ‘there are no houses near. This other girl was murdered there, and everybody thought it was suicide.’
“There was silence for a minute, and then the other (the short one, I think, by his voice) said, ‘Let’s do it.’”
“Oh, Harry!” I said, “how awful!”
“We must keep our heads,” said Harry, “and not let them think we’ve heard anything.”
“Did you hear any more?”
“Yes, I heard the long one say that they’d better go up to the pool to-night, so as to see how it looked in the dark, and then they would be able to arrange all the details.”
“Harry,” I said, “not another moment do I rest in this house, with two men plotting murder in it. Go and tell them that we know all, and order them off the premises.”