"It was just such an evening," said the man, slowly: "just such a storm as we've had this afternoon, that it happened."
"That what happened?" I cried, a trifle irritably; but he made no answer, and only stared at me curiously.
"Do you know these parts, sir?" he said at length.
"It's the first time I've ever been here," I answered. "I'm on a walking tour."
"Ah! A walking tour. Well. I'm a doctor myself, and unless you get your clothes changed pretty quickly, I predict that your walking tour will come to an abrupt conclusion—even if it's only a temporary one. Now, put on this coat, and we'll get off to a good inn."
But, anxious as I was to fall in with his suggestion myself, I felt that that was more than I could do.
"It's very good of you, doctor," I said; "but, seeing that you are a medical man, I really must ask you to come and look at this youngster first. I'd never forgive myself if by any chance he wasn't dead. As a matter of fact, I've seen death too often not to recognize it, and the boy was stabbed clean through the heart right in front of my eyes—but..."
I broke off, as one of the girls leaned forward and whispered to her father. But he only shook his head, and stared at me curiously.
"Did you make no effort to stop the murder?" he asked at length.
It was the question I had been dreading, the question I knew must come sooner or later. But, now that I was actually confronted with it, I had no answer ready. I could only shake my head and stammer out confusedly: