“My Lord! Isaac Naylor murdered!” Then, after a moment’s pause—“Where?—How?—When?” A half a dozen heads were thrust out of the coach windows by this time—they all listened in silence while John repeated that which Will had just told them. The coach went on down the road, but it did not take Tom with it.
Then Will turned to Tom—“Tom, I want to speak to you for a minute,” said he.
Tom stepped aside with him, without answering.
Will was holding his horse by the reins; he did not speak for a moment or two, but stood as though thinking what to say.
“Tom, have you seen Isaac Naylor since you’ve come back?” said he, at last.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Tom hesitated before he spoke.
“Where?” said Will, again.
“At—at the place where they found him this morning,” said Tom. He looked straight at Will as he spoke, but Will turned his eyes away.