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Updated: May 8, 2025
It ran: "Walter Hart, Savage Club, Adelphi, London. Come here and help to lay a ghost." He signed it in full, name and address. Doris was gone, but her father received it, and read the text in a bewildered way. "I find myself deserted by my Steynholme friends so I am trying to import one stanch one," said Grant, almost vindictively. Martin murmured the cost, and Grant stormed out again.
He looked severe rather than studious. He might have been an omnipotent being who had detected a malefactor in a criminal act. Was Steynholme and its secret felon being regarded in that way by the providence which, for some inscrutable purpose, permitted, yet would infallibly punish, a dreadful murder?
Why, if he is innocent? Mind you, I pay little heed to the crude disposal of the body. Horace, I think, has a truism that art lies in concealing art. My wife's presence in Steynholme was no secret. She would have been missed from the inn. Search would be made.
He would see instantly how interested Miss Melhuish was in the owner of The Hollies, while she, a smart Londoner, would recognize in Siddle an informant worth all the rest of the babblers in Steynholme.
"We Steynholme folk have a pretty clear notion, I can assure you." "The matter is still sub judice, and may remain so a long time," said Siddle. "It is simply stupid to attach a kind of responsibility to the man who happens to occupy the house associated with the crime. I have no patience with that sort of reasoning." Hobbs, who did not want to quarrel with Elkin, suddenly championed him.
"Do you mean to say, sir, that you haven't heard of the Steynholme murder?" he gasped. "I seldom, if ever, read such things in the newspapers, and, as I landed in England only a week ago from France, my ignorance, though abyssmal, is pardonable. Moreover, I can say truly that I am far more interested in pedigree horses than in vulgar criminals." Peters explained fluently.
Turning into a winding bridle-path tucked between hedges of thorn and hazels, he walked to a point where it crossed a patch of furze. At a little distance a hand-bridge spanned the river, and gave access to the eastern end of the village by a steep climb of the wooded cliff. The path, in fact, was a short cut to that part of Steynholme. He sat on a hump of rock, and waited.
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