“Call off these dogs, and I'll help you to get him out!” shouted Clynch.
In the hope of saving the baronet's life, Marple complied; and as soon as he was safe from attack, the gipsy flung away the knife, and, setting to work, did his best.
But his help was of no avail. The horse was got out; but Sir Leycester had sunk, and could not be found.
Plenty of other assistance soon arrived. Booth, the coachman; Ned Rushton, the keeper; the turf-cutters—all were there.
But though every effort was made, and every available appliance used, more than an hour elapsed before the body could be recovered.
It was then conveyed to the Hall—Marple having gone on before, to break the sad intelligence to Lady Barfleur.