"T'morrer mornin', Joel!" said Mr. Shrig, taking up the reins; and flicking the horse, away we went at a sharp trot. "Do you propose to stay the night at Tonbridge, Mr. Shrig?" "Vy--it's all accordin' to Number Vun, sir. Number Vun set out for Tonbridge but might be goin' further; v'ether 'e does or no, depends on Number Two." "I fear I do not understand you, Mr. Shrig." "Vich is 'ardly to be expected, sir. Y' see, perfeshionally speakin', I'm arter two birds as I 'opes to ketch alive an' dead." "But how can you catch anything alive and dead?" "Veil, then, let's say vun alive an' t' other 'un dead." "Ah--what kind of birds?" "Downy vuns, sir--'specially Number Vun!" and here my companion smiled and nodded benignantly. Mr. Shrig drove rapidly, threading his way through the traffic with the ease of an experienced Jehu, and soon in place of dingy roofs and chimneys my eyes were blessed with the green of trees shading the familiar road which led, as I knew, to those leafy solitudes where one "might walk with God." And now there rushed upon me a memory of Diana--Diana as she once had been--my Goddess of the Silent Places; and I yearned passionately for the irrevocable past and despaired in bitter hopelessness of the present and the long and lonely future. From these gloomy thoughts I was aroused by the sound of my companion's voice: "I am a-goin' on this here hexpe-dition, sir, with the expectation--I may say with the 'ope sir, of finding a body--" "A body of what?" I enquired absently. "Lord, Mr. Werricker, sir, vat should it be but a hum-ing body--a corpse, sir." "Horrible!" I exclaimed. "Who is it? Where did he die?" "Vell, sir," said Mr. Shrig, consulting a ponderous watch, "to the best o' my judgment 'e ain't dead yet, no, not yet, I fancy, but two hours--say three--should do 'is business neat an' comfortable; yes--in three hours 'e should be as nice a corpse as ever you might vish to see--if the con-clusions as I've drawed is correct. An' talkin' o' murder, sir--" "Ah!" I exclaimed. "Is it murder?" "Sir," answered Mr. Shrig, "speakin' without prejudice, I answer you, it's a-goin' to be, or I'm a frog-eatin' Frenchman, vich God forbid, sir. An' speakin' o' murder, here's my attitood towards same--there's murder as is murder an' there's murder as is justifiable 'omicide. If you commits the fact for private wengeance, windictiveness or personal gain, then 't is murder damned an' vith a werry big he-M; but if so be you commits the fact to rid yourself or friends an' the world in general of evil, then I 'old 't is a murder justifiable. Consequently it will go to my 'eart to appre-'end this here murderer." "Who is he?" I demanded.