sportsman, and before he became so hard up he spent a lot of money on the estate, which, I believe, has always been considered one of the very best in the South-West. There's salmon, they say, down in the Glen yonder — but I've never tried for any."
"Certainly there is. I've seen several. I hope to try one of these days. The Glen is deep and shady — an ideal place for fish. The only disappointment here, as far as I can make out, is the very few head of black-game."
Yes, but every year they are getting rarer and rarer in this part of Scotland. A really fine black-cock is quite an event nowadays," I said.
While we were talking, or rather while I was carefully watching the rapid working of his mind, Leithcourt himself entered and joined us. He had been playing tennis, and had come in to rest and cool.
Host and guest were evidently on the most intimate terms. Leithcourt addressed him as "Martin," and began to relate a quarrel which his head-gamekeeper had had that day with one of the small farmers on the estate regarding the killing of some rabbits. And while they were talking Muriel suggested that we should stroll down to the tennis-courts again, an invitation which, much as I regretted leaving the two men, I was bound to accept.
It seemed as though she wished purposely to take me away from that man's presence, fearing that by remaining there longer my suspicions might become
