Mr. Thornycroft stooped, and touched one of the cold hands, stooped to hide the tears which filled his eyes, very unusual visitors to the eyes of the justice. "Poor, poor fellow! how could it have happened? How could he have come here?" "He must have been shot on the heights, and the shot hurled him over, there's no doubt of that," said Captain Copp. "Must have been standing at the edge of the plateau." "But what should bring him on the plateau at night?" cried Tomlett, who made one of the spectators. "What indeed!" returned the captain. "_I_ don't know. A bare, bleak place even in daylight, with as good as no expanse of sea-view." "I cannot understand this," said Justice Thornycroft, lifting his face with a puzzled expression on it. "Young Hunter took leave of us last night, and left for London. He missed the omnibus to Jutpoint and set off to walk. One of my sons saw him part of the way. What brought him back on the plateau?" "Yes, he contrived to lose the omnibus," interrupted Supervisor Kyne; who, however, what with the wine and the brandy he had consumed, had a very confused and imperfect recollection of the events of the previous evening, but did not choose to let people know that, and chose to put in his testimony. "Mr. Hunter shook hands with me in the dining-room at the Red Court, and I wished him a pleasant journey. That must have been--what time, Mr. Justice?" "Getting on for nine. And one of my boys saw him go." "It's odd what could have spirited him back again," exclaimed Captain Copp. "Which of them steered him off?" "I forget which," returned the justice. "I heard Isaac say that one of them did. To tell you the truth, captain, I sat late in the dining-room last night, and my head's none of the clearest this morning. How do you find yours, Kyne?" "Oh, mine's all right, sir," answered the supervisor hastily. "A man in office is obliged to be cautious in what he takes." "Ah, there's no coming over you," cried the justice, with a side wink to Captain Copp. "There's Mr. Isaac hisself, a coming round the point now," exclaimed one of the fishermen. The crowd turned and saw him. Isaac Thornycroft was approaching with a rapid step. "They say Hunter is murdered!" he called out. "It cannot be." "He is lying here, stiff and cold, Isaac, with a bullet in his head," was the sad reply of the justice. "Shot down from the heights above." Isaac stooped in silence. His fair complexion and fine colour, heightened by the morning air, were something bright to look upon. But, as he gazed at that sadly disfigured form, yesterday so animate with life and health, a paleness as of the grave overspread his face; a shudder, which shook him from head to foot, passed through his frame. "What brought him here--or on the plateau?" he asked. Almost the same words his father had used. "What indeed!" repeated Mr. Thornycroft. "Did you tell me you saw him off, Isaac? Or was it Richard?"