“And little did I think, those many years ago, that ever it should have come to this, gentlemen,” went on the old lady, with tears starting to her eyes—“with Master Dandy gone, God knows where, and lying tongues wagging about him, and he not here to defend himself.” Ogledon took her up quickly. “Lying tongues, Mrs. Dolman? And what, pray, are they daring to say about our dear Dandy?” “It seems, sir, that there has been a body found—of a young girl who belonged to these parts—in a wood near by; and, because Master Dandy has been seen talking to her once or twice—(as young men will, and always have done, since the good Lord made young men and women!)—they must needs go whispering about that Master Dandy made away with her.” Ogledon drew in his breath sharply, and rose from his seat; confronted Mrs. Dolman for a moment, in an amazed silence; and finally spoke, in a voice which shook a little with his anxiety. “I don’t understand,” he said. “Do you suggest that Mr. Chater is accused of murder?” “That’s what they dare to say, sir,” replied the old lady. “And as he’s been gone from here—and left no word as to where he is—since Wednesday——” Ogledon, who had turned partially from her, even while he listened intently to all she said, swung round quickly, and interrupted her. “My good woman—what day did you say?” “Wednesday, sir. Master Dandy went from here very late.” Ogledon looked at her, for a moment, in blank amazement and terror; put his hand to his shirt collar, and tugged at it, as though he found a difficulty in breathing; moved away a step or two, and then came back to her, smiling in rather a ghastly fashion. He spoke with some little impatience, and yet very clearly and distinctly. “I—I want to be very—very clear about this, Mrs. Dolman,” he said, speaking in a gasping, breathless sort of fashion, as one deeply agitated, and yet striving to keep control of himself. “I—I have been away in France—Paris—and have only just returned. Mr. Chater and I, as you know, left here a week ago—a week this night—I went to London in the morning—he came on late at night, and met me there. We—we parted—that night; I”—the man passed his hand quickly over his forehead, and tugged again at his shirt collar—“I have not seen him since.” “Well, sir,” replied the housekeeper—“he came back the next day, sir—Saturday——”