They dismounted, and examined the murdered man, discovering to their amazement and horror that he had been run through the base of the neck from _behind_, by some cowardly hand. The body was laid over the back of a horse, and four of the gentlemen returned with it to the Manor House, while Will and the other three friends prosecuted their search for Wynne Clarge. This search, however, was in vain; no signs of him could be found, and after wandering about in the snow for a long time they returned to Minehead. It was indeed a sad Christmas Day for the good folks of the Manor House, which instead of being a place of rejoicing was now a house of the deepest sorrow. Poor Julia was inconsolable. No papers relating to the property were found on the body, and this gave some clue to Wynne’s reason for waylaying the poor young fellow. Benwell was buried in the churchyard which lies high upon the hill, a churchyard surrounded by walls that look out over the quiet town like the ramparts of a fortress dominating a city. A week later, a great commotion was caused by the news being brought, that Wynne’s body had been discovered in the trout pool, which lies nearly hidden under the great hill near Stoke Pero. True it was, and for him too--murderer as well as murdered--a resting-place was found in the quiet hill-top churchyard. * * * * * The missing papers could not be discovered, although the woods had been searched in all directions, and as the unusually cold winter gave place to the genial early spring, people began to look upon the tragedy as a thing of the past, and talked no more of it. Poor Julia drooped and faded; but with the advent of the lovely warm May days she revived, and, by and by, became her own sweet self again; not quite so tuneful in her songs as of yore, but still her father’s own little warbling bird, for he delighted in music and in singing, particularly the songs his daughter sang to him of an evening. Summer came with its flowers, and autumn with its grain and fruit, and then--then came cold dreary winter once more. Christmas approached, but this year, instead of the usual jovial party at the Manor House, Julia and her father accepted an invitation to spend a few days with the sporting rector of Stoke Pero. They arrived at the Rectory on the 22nd of December (a Monday), and were invited to stay over Christmas Day, which was on the Thursday. Julia was not at all in good spirits, and was evidently thinking of the dreadful Christmas a year ago and her lost love. She brooded so that, as Christmas Eve approached, she was positively unable to hide her state of intense nervousness and melancholy, and at noon on the 24th she felt herself so unwell that she implored her father to take her home.