On the way down the winding staircase, a thought struck me.
"What has become of that body," I asked, "that was found on Lansdown yesterday morning?"
"What body?" replied my two cousins together.
"The body of an old lady."
"We have heard nothing of it," replied St. Nivel, "and we ought to have done so. But you have not told us what happened to you."
Going down the old stone staircase, I gave them a brief account of my arrest in London and journey down there, with my imprisonment during the night in the tower.
"Well," remarked St. Nivel, while his sister murmured a few words of sympathy, "I haven't quite got the hang of the thing yet, but you must tell us more at lunch."
We found that the man lying at the foot of the tower was certainly dead; his neck was broken.
We could therefore do nothing but leave the gamekeeper in charge of the body while we despatched the boy to warn the police and fetch a doctor.
With a shilling in his pocket to get his dinner, the young yokel set off on his journey, and we strolled away.