"I owe these special thanks to our founders, gentlemen, because, during the month which is past, they have provided me with such great, such unwonted sport. So soon as I knew that the Honour of the Club was indeed entrusted to my keeping, I became like the old-fashioned sportsman, who had to do his own beating and flush for himself his birds. In my case there was this marked peculiarity, that I did not even know where to find the cover in which a bird might happen to be hiding." Pausing, I looked each member in the face in turn. Odd spectacles they most of them presented. The majority of them shifted their eyes as they saw mine coming, as if they were unwilling, or unable, to meet my glances. "Gentlemen, I found the cover and the bird. I have had the gratification of being able to fulfil the promise which I made to you. I return the Honour of the Club, dyed a more vivid crimson stain." As I spoke, two or three fellows gasped. I don't know who they were, but the queer sound which they emitted caused me to smile. Taking out the Honour of the Club from my pocket-book, I held it up in front of me. There was silence. Then Pendarvon spoke-- "Are we to take you literally?" "In the sense that the Honour of the Club has, literally, been dyed a more vivid crimson--that, in other words, it has been dipped in the sacrificial blood? No. My meaning, there, was metaphorical. There was no blood to dip it in." I handed the Honour of the Club across the table to Pendarvon. As he took it, he looked at me askance. "That is not all you are going to tell us? The rules require you to furnish full particulars." "Those particulars, Mr. Chairman, I am now about to furnish. The bird I flushed, marked, and bagged was a hen." "A hen?" "A woman, Mr. Chairman. Name, Louise O'Donnel. Age, turned twenty. Date, last Sunday. Scene, Three Bridges. Cause of death, strangulation." Pendarvon leaned towards me over the table. "Are you responsible, then, for what the papers have christened the Three Bridges Tragedy?" "I am." "Did you throw the woman from the train?" "I did not. I threw the woman from the field, over the hedge, on to the railway embankment. I should explain to you, gentlemen, that it seems not unlikely that I may become the subject of a curious coincidence. I killed the bird under the railway bridge. As I was doing so a train passed overhead. This must have been the train of which you have read in the public prints. I cannot pretend to predict the course of events, but I can assure you that whoever smashed that window and had that little rough and tumble in the railway carriage had nothing to do with the Three Bridges Tragedy. For that I am responsible, and I alone." Silence followed my words. I glanced round. Various expressions were on the fellows' faces, and among them was one which suggested doubt. I noted, with amusement, that what I had anticipated had taken place. They doubted if I had done what I had declared I had.