There was no railway beyond Frutigen in those days; they sent their baggage by post to Kandersteg, and walked along the mule path to the left of the stream to that queer hollow among the precipices, Blau See, where the petrifying branches of trees lie in the blue deeps of an icy lake, and pine-trees clamber among gigantic boulders. That there gatekeeper would’ve called them out again. "Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. Arrived at Westbourne-Green—then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from KensallGreen. Then a bit of colour flowed into his sunken white cheeks. ‘Certainly no one will find it. “These are for you. “In the event of his death we should require you at once to attend at the inquest.
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