'Elliot got hold of me by the shoulder.

''It can't be, man,' he murmured. 'I tell you it can't be. A man cannot be killed like that. It is - it's against Nature.'

'I tried to soothe him.

''There is some explanation,' I said. 'Your cousin must have had some unsuspected weakness of the heart. The shock and excitement -'

'He interrupted me.

''You don't understand,' he said. He held up his hands for me to see and I noticed a red stain on them.

''Dick didn't die of shock, he was stabbed - stabbed to the heart, and there is no weapon.'

'I stared at him incredulously. At that moment Symonds rose from his examination of the body and came towards us. He was pale and shaking all over.

''Are we all mad?' he said. 'What is this place - that things like this can happen in it?'

''Then it is true,' I said.

'He nodded.

''The wound is such as would be made by a long thin dagger, but - there is no dagger there.'

'We all looked at each other.

''But it must be there,' cried Elliot Haydon. 'It must have dropped out. it must be on the ground somewhere. Let us look.'

'We peered about vainly on the ground. Violet Mannering said suddenly:

''Diana had something in her hand. A kind of dagger. I saw it. I saw it glitter when she threatened him.'

'Elliot Haydon shook his head.

''He never even got within three yards of her,' he objected.

'Lady Mannering was bending over the prostrate girl on the ground.

''There is nothing in her hand now,' she announced, 'and I can't see anything on the ground. Are you sure you saw it, Violet? I didn't.'

'Dr. Symonds came over to the girl.

''We must get her to the house,' he said. 'Rogers, will you help?'

'Between us we carried the unconscious girl back to the house. Then we returned and fetched the body of Sir Richard.

Dr. Pender broke off apologetically and looked round. 'One would know better nowadays,' he said, 'owing to the prevalence of detective fiction. Every street boy knows that a body must be left where it is found. But in these days we had not the same knowledge, and accordingly we carried the body of Richard Haydon back to his bedroom in the square granite house and the butler was dispatched on a bicycle in search of the police - a ride of some twelve miles.

'It was then that Elliot Haydon drew me aside.

''Look here,' he said. 'I am going back to the grove. That weapon has got to be found.'

''If there was a weapon,' I said doubtfully.

'He seized my arm and shook it fiercely. 'You have got that superstitious stuff into your head. You think his death was supernatural; well, I am going back to the grove to find out.'

'I was curiously averse to his doing so. I did my utmost to dissuade him, but without result. The mere idea of that thick circle of trees was abhorrent to me and I felt a strong premonition of further disaster. But Elliot was entirely pigheaded. He was, I think, scared himself, but would not admit it. He went off fully armed with determination to get to the bottom of the mystery.

'It was a very dreadful night, none of us could sleep, or attempt to do so. The police, when they arrived, were frankly incredulous of the whole thing. They evinced a strong desire to cross-examine Miss Ashley, but there they had to reckon with Dr. Symonds, who opposed the idea vehemently. Miss Ashley had come out of her faint or trance and he had given her a strong sleeping draught. She was on no account to be disturbed until the following day.

'It was not until about seven o'clock in the morning that anyone thought about Elliot Haydon, and then Symonds suddenly asked where he was. I explained what Elliot had done and Symonds's grave face grew a shade graver. 'I wish he hadn't. It is - it is foolhardy,' he said.

''You don't think any harm can have happened to him?'

''I hope not. I think, Padre, that you and I had better go and see.'

'I knew he was right, but it took all the courage in my command to nerve myself for the task. We set out together and entered once more that ill-fated grove of trees. We called him twice and got no reply. In a minute or two we came into the clearing, which looked pale and ghostly in the early morning light. Symonds clutched my arm and I uttered a muttered exclamation. Last night when we had seen it in the moonlight there had been the body of a man lying face downwards on the grass. Now in the early morning light the same sight met our eyes. Elliot Haydon was lying on the exact spot where his cousin had been.

''My God,' said Symonds. 'It has got him too!'

'We ran together over the grass. Elliot Haydon was unconscious but breathing feebly and this time there was no doubt of what had caused the tragedy. A long thin bronze weapon remained in the wound.

''Got him through the shoulder, not through the heart. That is lucky,' commented the doctor. 'On my soul, I don't know what to think. At any rate he is not dead and he will be able to tell us what happened.'

'But that was just what Elliot Haydon was not able to do. His description was vague in the extreme. He had hunted about vainly for the dagger and at last giving up the search had taken up a stand near the Idol House. It was then that he became increasingly certain that someone was watching him from the belt of trees. He fought against this impression but was not able to shake it off. He described a cold strange wind that began to blow. it seemed to come not from the trees but from the interior of the Idol House. He turned round, peering inside it. He saw the small figure of the Goddess and he felt he was under an optical delusion. The figure seemed to grow larger and larger. Then he suddenly received something that felt like a blow between his temples which sent him reeling back, and as he fell he was conscious of a sharp burning pain in his left shoulder.

'The dagger was identified this time as being the identical one which had been dug up in the barrow on the hill, and which had been bought by Richard Haydon. Where he had kept it, in the house or in the Idol House in the grove, none seemed to know.

'The police were of the opinion, and always will be, that he was deliberately stabbed by Miss Ashley, but in view of our combined evidence that she was never within three yards of him, they could not hope to support the charge against her. So the - thing has been and remains a mystery.'

There was a silence.

'There doesn't seem anything to say,' said Joyce Lumpier at length. 'It is all so horrible - and uncanny.'

'Of course there is only one way that poor Sir Richard could have been stabbed,' said Miss Marple. 'But I do wish I knew what caused him to stumble in the first place. Of course, it might have been a tree root. He would be looking at the girl, of course, and when it is moonlight one does trip over things.'

'You say that there is only one way that Sir Richard could have been stabbed, Miss Marple,' said the clergyman, looking at her curiously.

'It is very sad and I don't like to think of it. He was a right-handed man, was he not? I mean to stab himself in the left shoulder he must have been. I was always so sorry for poor Jack Baynes in the War. He shot himself in the foot, you remember, after very severe fighting at Arras. He told me about it when I went to see him in the hospital, and very ashamed of it he was. I don't expect this poor man, Elliot Haydon, profited much by his wicked crime.'

'Elliot Haydon,' cried Raymond. 'You think he did it?'

'I don't see how anyone else could have done it,' said Miss Marple, opening her eyes in gentle surprise. 'I mean if, as Mr. Petherick so wisely says, one looks at the facts and disregards all that atmosphere of heathen goddesses which I don't think is very nice. He went up to him first and turned him over, and of course to do that he would have to have had his back to them all, and being dressed as a brigand chief he would be sure to have a weapon of some kind in his belt. I remember dancing with a man dressed as a brigand chief when I was a young girl. He had five kinds of knives and daggers, and I can't tell you how awkward and uncomfortable it was for his partner.'