"Murdered? He's not been murdered! It's a lie!"
Day, after one glance at her, seemed to avoid looking in her direction.
"As to that, madam, I can say nothing. The young man doesn't seem to be too clear-headed. I will send someone at once and have inquiries made."
Shortly it was known to all the house that young Clarke's story was not a lie. A horse was put into a trap, the news was conveyed to the village, the one policeman brought upon the scene. When Miss Arnott returned with her motor it was easy enough for her to see that at last the air was stirred.
"Has anything happened?" she inquired of the footman who came to superintend her descent from the motor.
"I am afraid there has--something very unpleasant."
"Unpleasant! How?"
"It appears that a man has been found dead in Cooper's Spinney--murdered, cut to pieces, they do say.
"In Cooper's Spinney? Cut to pieces?" She paused, as if to reflect. "Did you say cut to pieces? Surely there's some mistake."
"I only know what they say, miss. Granger's up there now."