"Not the least idea," replied Rupert, lingering at the hall door. "I saw the vicar the night before last when he dined with me, and yesterday morning I called to see him on my way to London." "So Mrs. Jabber said, and she said also, sir, that you said you'd call in the evening." "I did, but did not," Rupert hesitated, for Kensit was looking at him keenly. "I really hadn't very much to say to him, and intended to call this morning." "Do you know if he expected visitors, sir?" "No. He made no mention to me of expecting any." "Then it was a burglar," declared Kensit, positively. Hendle shrugged his shoulders. "I don't see what there was to steal," he replied carelessly, and then he went away, after leaving a message that he would like to interview the Tarhaven Inspector when he was at leisure. There was a crowd round the rickety gate--now closed for the first time for many years--but a policeman, summoned by Kensit from a neighboring village, was on guard, and would not allow anyone to enter. He saluted Rupert as he passed out, and the young man mechanically touched his hat in response. Down the road he came suddenly upon old Titus Ark, who was ruminating against a stone wall, looking more prehistoric than ever. The ancient grunted as the young Squire sauntered along thoughtfully in the blazing sunshine, and raised a gnarled hand to his battered hat. Considering that he was Leigh's bodyguard, who followed him everywhere like a dog, Hendle expected to find the old man tearful with the weakness of age. But Titus was smiling in a way which showed his toothless gums, and piped out an ordinary greeting, quite oblivious of the tremendous event which was disturbing the village. "Morning, Squoire," said Ark, with his usual grunt. "Fine weather fur they crops I du think. Hor! Hor! Hor!" Rupert stopped to rebuke this levity. "Don't you know that Mr. Leigh is dead?" "Oh, no, he bain't dead," said the ancient easily. "A knock on the head don't settle such as he." "Nonsense, man! Why, the vicar was extremely weak, and a mere tap would settle him. What are you talking about?" "About Muster Leigh. Hor! Hor! Hor! He ain't dead. I've seen him dead afore, but he nivir come my way fur the berryin', Squoire." "He'll come your way this time, Titus, I am afraid," replied Rupert, wondering why the old man was so stubborn. He surmised that, as Leigh--according to the doctor--had heart disease, he must have fainted at times in Ark's presence, which would account for the sexton's saying he had seen him dead. "I suppose you don't know who murdered him?" "He bain't murdered, Squoire." "Then you don't know who struck him?" said Hendle, amending his question. "Naw. Muster Leigh, he said good-bye to me last night at six when he left Mussus Pattens, who is my datter. She's taken a turn for the better." "I'm glad to hear it, Titus. Did Mr. Leigh say if he expected any visitor last night?"