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"Sorry I let it out so clumsily I didn't think it would affect you like that. But there it is Kitely's been murdered. Strangled!" "Strangled!" echoed Mallalieu. "Dear dear dear! When was this, now?" "Within the hour," replied Bent. "Mr. Brereton here a friend of mine from London and I were spending the evening at your partner's, when that neighbour of his, Garthwaite, came running in to tell Mr.
Garthwaite baited and threw in his line before I had fixed the joints of my fishing-rod. This first difficulty overcome, I involuntarily plunged into some excellent, but rather embarrassing, sport with my line and hook. I caught every one of my garments, from head to foot; I angled for my own clothes with the dexterity and success of Izaak Walton himself.
And as soon as they were in the garden Cotherstone turned on Garthwaite. "How do you know he's murdered?" he asked. "How could you tell?" "I'll tell you all about it, now we're outside," answered Garthwaite. "I'd been over to Spennigarth, to see Hollings. I came back over the Shawl, and made a short cut through the wood.
We moved away, further down the bank, leaving the imperturbable foreman still in the flower-garden, staring at us speechlessly on our departure, exactly as he had already stared at us on our approach. "Stop a minute," said Mr. Garthwaite suddenly, after we had walked some distance in silence by the side of the stream, "I have an idea. Now we are out for a day's angling, we won't be balked.
Garthwaite walked to the window when we entered, without saying a word. Two tables covered with books were the first objects that attracted me.
Bent laid a hand on Cotherstone's arm and turned him in the direction of his house. "Brereton and I'll go with the sergeant," he said. "You must go home Lettie'll be anxious about things. Go down with him, Mr. Garthwaite you'll both hear more later." To Brereton's great surprise, Cotherstone made no objection to this summary dismissal.
Although not of the north country myself, I knew the meaning of the phrase. Garthwaite suspected that the master was nothing less than mad! Romayne took my arm when we were alone we walked slowly from end to end of the Belvidere. The moon was, by this time, low in the heavens; but her mild mysterious light still streamed over the roof of the house and the high heathy ground round it.
To which his reply was, 'twas Tim. Garthwaite, "That 'twas not his trade to judge of true or false Divinity, but to print and sell books: and yet if he, or any friend of his, would write an answer to it, and own it by setting his name to it, he would print the Answer, and promote the selling of it."
After nearly two hours of intense expectation on my part, and intense angling on his, Mr. Garthwaite jerked his line out of the water in a rage, and bade me follow him to another place, declaring that the stream must have been netted by poachers in the night, who had taken all the large fish away with them, and had thrown in the small ones to grow until their next visit.
The answer was Because when Cotherstone, Garthwaite, Bent, and Brereton set out from Cotherstone's house to look at the dead man's body, Cotherstone led the way straight to it. How did Cotherstone know exactly where, in that half-mile of wooded hill-side, the murder had been committed of which he had only heard five minutes before?
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