‘That was my first precaution,’ said Logan.  ’I heard of the—­of what has happened—­about four in the morning, and I instantly knocked in the stakes—­hard work with the frozen ground—­and drew the rope along, to isolate the snow about the house.  When I had done that, I searched the snow for footmarks.’

‘When had the snow begun to fall?’

’About midnight.  I turned out then to look at the night before going to bed.’

‘And there was nothing wrong then?’

’He lay on his bed in the laird’s chamber.  I had just left it.  I left him with the watcher of the dead.  There was a plate of salt on his breast.  The housekeeper, Mrs. Bower, keeps up the old ways.  Candles were burning all round the bed.  A fearful waste he would have thought it, poor old man.  The devils!  If I could get on their track!’ said Logan, clenching his fist.

‘You have found no tracks, then?’

’None.  When I examined the snow there was not a footmark on the roads to the back door or the front—­not a footmark on the whole area.’

’Then the removal of the body from the bedroom was done from within.  Probably the body is still in the house.’

’Certainly it has been taken out by no known exit, if it has been taken out, as I believe.  I at once arranged relays of sentinels—­men from the coal-pits.  But the body is gone; I am certain of it.  A fishing-boat went out from the village, Strutherwick, before the dawn.  It came into the little harbour after midnight—­some night-wandering lover saw it enter—­and it must have sailed again before dawn.’

‘Did you examine the snow near the harbour?’

’I could not be everywhere at once, and I was single-handed; but I sent down the old serving-man, John Bower.  He is stupid enough, but I gave him a note to any fisherman he might meet.  Of course these people are not detectives.’

‘And was there any result?’

’Yes; an odd one.  But it confirms the obvious theory of body-snatching.  Of course, fishers are early risers, and they went trampling about confusedly.  But they did find curious tracks.  We have isolated some of them, and even managed to carry off a couple.  We dug round them, and lifted them.  A neighbouring laird, Mr. Maitland, lent his ice-house for storing these, and I had one laid down on the north side of this house to show you, if the frost held.  No ice-house or refrigerator here, of course.’

‘Let me see it now.’

Logan took a lighted candle—­the night was frosty, without a wind—­and led Merton out under the black, ivy-clad walls.  Merton threw his greatcoat on the snow and knelt on it, peering at the object.  He saw a large flat clod of snow and earth.  On its surface was the faint impress of a long oval, longer than the human foot; feathery marks running in both directions from the centre could be descried.  Looking closer, Merton detected here and there a tiny feather and a flock or two of down adhering to the frozen mass.