The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. The major himself told me that this secret passage started upstairs. ‘The secret passage!’ It did not take long to find the mechanism of the candlesconce that opened the door. The plank hung over his head. Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. ” “But why——” Sir John stopped short.
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