“A secret?” Again she spoke easily, jokingly; but there came over her a strange, involuntary feeling of repulsion for the odd-looking child.

He came up close to her, and, putting his hands behind his back, began to stare fixedly beyond her, at the empty space between her chair and the white wall.

There crept over Enid Crofton a sensation of acute discomfort.  She stepped back, and sat down in her low, easy-chair.  What was Timmy looking at with that curious, fixed stare?

It was in vain that she reminded herself that no sensible person now believes in ghosts, and that she had but to press the bell on the other side of the fireplace to ensure the attendance of her cheerful servant.  These comforting reflections availed her nothing, and a wave of fear advanced and threatened to engulf her.

After what seemed to her an interminable pause, but which was really less than a minute, Timmy’s eyes met hers, and he said abruptly, “Is it true that someone has asked you to go to India?  Rosamund says it is.”

She gave a little gasp of relief.  On her way home from the station in the Old Place pony-cart, she had told her companion that while in London she had met a man who had fallen in love with her in Egypt, during the War.  Further, that this handsome, brilliant, rich young soldier had urged her to marry him and go off to India with him at once.  She was surprised as well as dismayed by this quick betrayal of her confidence.  What a goose Rosamund was!

“Yes, Timmy,” she bent forward and smiled a little, “it is quite true that I have been asked to go to India, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going.”

“I would, if I were you,” said the child gravely.

“Would you?” Again she smiled.  “But I’ve only just come to Beechfield.  I hope you’re not in a hurry to get rid of me?”

“No,” he said, “I’m not in a hurry, exactly.  It’s you who ought to be in a hurry, Mrs. Crofton.”  He waited a moment and then added:  “India is a very nice place.”

“Yes, indeed.  Full of tigers and leopards!” she said playfully.

“I should go as soon as you can if I were you.”

She looked at him distrustfully.  What exactly did he mean?

"Someone we wot of got off very lightly at the inquest."

His voice sank almost to a whisper, but Enid Crofton felt as if the terrible sentence was being shouted for all the world to hear.

Timmy’s eyes were now fixed on the gay-looking blue rug spread out before the fender to his right.  He was remembering something he had done of which he was ashamed.

Then he lifted his head and began again staring at the space between Mrs. Crofton’s chair and the wall.

Enid Crofton opened her mouth and then she shut it again.  What did the boy know?  What had he seen?  What had he been told?  She remembered that Mr. Tosswill was a magistrate.  Had the Pipers been down to see him?