That same night, I returned to Upton End with intention to show Guy Nicholson the curious record when he visited me on Sunday. Next morning--which was Saturday--I opened my newspaper, which, as usual, I found on the library table after breakfast, when my eyes fell upon a heading which caused my heart to stand still. The printed words danced before my bewildered eyes. For a second I stood like a man in a dream. I held my breath and eagerly read the half a dozen lines of brief announcement--a report which caused me to clap my hand to my fevered brow, and to involuntarily ejaculate the words-- "My God! It can't be true--_it can't be true_!" CHAPTER ELEVEN. A SENSATION IN THE COUNTY. The paragraph I read was truly a startling one, brief, but amazing. Apparently few details had arrived in London, for it read thus-- "Mr Guy Nicholson, son of the late Mr Nathaniel Nicholson, the well-known ironmaster of Sheffield, and for twenty-five years Member for South Cheshire, was yesterday morning found dead under somewhat remarkable circumstances. It appears that he entertained some guests at dinner at his house, Titmarsh Court, near Corby, Northamptonshire, and the last of his friends to depart left about midnight. About two o'clock in the morning a friend who was staying in the house, and whose room was directly over the library, was awakened by a man's piercing shrieks, as though of horror. He listened, and heard a loud thumping sound below. Then all was quiet. It being the first time he had been a guest there, he did not alarm the household, but after lying awake for over an hour dropped off to sleep again. In the morning, however, the maid who went to clean the library found the door locked on the outside, as usual, but, on entering, was horrified to discover her master lying upon the carpet, he had been dead some hours. Considerable mystery attaches to the affair, which has created a great sensation in the neighbourhood, where the young man was well-known and highly popular." What could actually have happened! I read and re-read that paragraph. Then I rang up Stokes, my chauffeur, on the telephone, and we were soon tearing along the Northampton Road. Within a couple of hours we turned into the big lodge-gates of Titmarsh Court, which I found was a fine old place, upon which huge sums must have been spent by Guy's father in the way of improvements. It was a splendid specimen of the old, moated manor-house, situated in well-timbered grounds and approached by a long shady avenue of chestnuts, which met overhead. A young man-servant opened the door, and was inclined to be uncommunicative, until suddenly I caught sight of Shaw's grey car standing against the garage, and inquired for him. In a few moments he came forward, sedate and grave, and somewhat surprised, I think, at my presence there.