While these thoughts flitted through his mistress’s head, Gandhi conducted his own inspection. Rising in leisurely fashion to his long, ungainly legs, he submitted the stranger to a lengthy, searching sniff. It was some time before he was satisfied. The scent of the uniform trousers vaguely displeased him. Something about it grated on his canine consciousness. But presently he was reassured. Whatever the clothes, the man inside was all right. Quite unmistakably, his instinct passed him as a friend. With an almost imperceptible wag of the tail, he sauntered back to the hearthrug and lay down again, at peace with the world. Susan breathed a sigh of relief. The first crisis was safely over.

She caught the sergeant’s eye, and found that he was smiling. Involuntarily she smiled too. Absurdly enough the dog which was the cause of all the trouble seemed to have made them friends already.

“Is that the animal, Miss?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s Gandhi. Isn’t he rather sweet?” said Susan in her most appealing manner.

“He looks harmless enough,” was the guarded reply. Then, drawing some papers with an effort from the pocket of his close-fitting tunic, he went on: “I am sure, Miss, that to your mind it seems ridiculous that your dog could possibly be guilty of anything so dreadful as sheep-killing. But it is a serious matter, as you should know very well, living in a sheep-farming country, and we must consider this seriously. If it goes on, we shall have all the shepherds out with guns to protect their flocks, and it will end with the wrong animal killed as like as not. Now I have here some particulars of sheep-killing in this neighbourhood during the last few days. If you can account for your dog’s movements during the times in question, we can pass the word on, and he’ll be safe. I expect he’s pretty well known in this part of the world.”

Susan nodded, impressed in spite of herself.

“I’ll do my best,” she said.

“I’m sure you will, and you won’t mind my saying that it will be all to your advantage if you can supply the names of independent witnesses who can support your statements. We have to be careful in these things, you know.”

“Quite.”

“Very good. Now the first time is Monday, the 16th of this month, about four p.m.”

“Oh, that’s an easy one. I had a cold and was indoors. Gandhi was with me.”

“I see. Did anyone see him here—besides the people in the house, I mean?”

“Yes, Colonel Follett came to tea, I remember. He knows the dog quite well—he’s always making fun of him and his name.”

“His address?”

“Rockwell Priory—just the other side of Lewes.”

The sergeant noted the name, and went on: “The next day is Thursday last, the 19th. Three in the afternoon.”

Susan wrinkled her brow.