“By Jove, I think you are right.[{13}]”
“Come. We’ll try to follow the tracks.”
Nick traced them with no great difficulty. The trail led him for a short distance diagonally across the grounds toward the back street. Then it diverged abruptly in the direction of the low wall dividing the church property from an adjoining estate.
Gazing over the wall, Nick discovered other tracks in the next yard, where the grass was not as closely trimmed and was considerably trampled down. It was in the side yard of a wooden dwelling somewhat back from the street and about thirty feet from the wall.
Leaping over the low wall, Nick examined the sod and grass. He found numerous intermingled tracks and indentations, including that of a slender heel and others much broader and deeper. Passing his hand over the grass and glancing at the palm, he found it slightly stained with blood.
“Here we have it, Fallon,” he said, rising and displaying his hand. “Here is the key to the mystery, or to a part of it.”
“Good heavens!” Fallon exclaimed, gazing at it and then at the trampled grass. “There was a fight here.”
“A very one-sided fight, Fallon, unless I am much mistaken,” Nick replied.
“You mean?”
“It’s as plain as twice two, Fallon, as far as it goes,” said Nick, confidently. “Father Cleary had a woman visitor last evening. She confided something to him, or revealed it in a confession, about which he then sat down to write to Bishop Cassidy.”