“I could accompany you, my lady.” The inspector made signs of putting down his teacup. “But I don’t think there’s any need to worry. You’re not from around here, are you? The killer or killers only seem interested in people from these parts.”

“That’s encouraging, isn’t it?” I gave them a bright smile and departed.

I made it back to the hall without incident, although I have to confess, I did turn sharply every time there was a rustle in the bushes. When I reached Gorzley Hall I found that the wanderers had returned. The members of the sightseeing party were full of enthusiasm for what they had seen and were relating their experiences to the boys who had been training and to the bridge players.

“And we saw Buckfast Abbey. And we actually heard the monks chanting,” Mrs. Upthorpe said. “It was like stepping back into the Middle Ages.”

“And all those cute little villages and humpbacked bridges,” Mrs. Wexler agreed.

“And we saw the Dartmoor jail,” Mr. Wexler reminded her. “My, but that’s a grim-looking place. I’d want to escape if I were sent there.”

“Don’t forget the ponies,” Mrs. Wexler reminded him. “We actually saw the famous Dartmoor ponies.”

“You saw ponies?” Junior Wexler showed interest for the first time. “Like wild ponies, you mean?”

“We sure did. Running up the mountainside in the snow.” Mrs. Wexler paused to ruffle her son’s hair. “But how did your training go, son?”

“Swell. I thought the fences would be big, but they are only this high.” He held his hands about eighteen inches apart. “Anybody could jump over them.”

“Tea is ready when you’ve all had a chance to change,” Lady Hawse-Gorzley said, and as they went up the stairs to do so, she sidled over to me. “Any news from the outside world? One feels so cut off without a telephone still.”

“They’ve arrested Wild Sal,” I said.

“Wild Sal. Good God. So she was the one. I might have known. She is a direct descendant of the hag, after all.”

“Not so fast,” I said. “Since her arrest, there has been another death.”

“Where?” She looked up sharply.

“On the other side of Bovey Tracey, I think the inspector said. And it might have nothing to do with the other deaths. A farmer’s wife kicked in the head by a cow as she was milking.”

“Well, that has happened before, hasn’t it?” Lady Hawse-Gorzley dismissed this. “Such unpredictable creatures, cows. I expect they’ll find that this one really was an accident and that Wild Sal is responsible for at least some of the others.”