The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. Though a few months younger than his companion Jack Sheppard, he was half a head taller, and much more robustly formed. I saw their boat swept away, and heard the roar of the fall beneath the bridge; and no one, who was present, could doubt the result. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. “You see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter. She was the High Priestess. If you can imagine it, I survived it.
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