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“We can't.” Ephraim bit his lip. “That's why it's so extremely clever. Sorry, Henry.”

Henry brushed the apology aside with a smile. “What I don't understand is how Judah lost the penknife the first time, and couldn't find it, yet the second time, in the dark and when he must have had other things on his mind, he saw it!” He looked around at the snow-covered bark, the water clear as glass above the stones, and the dark, roughly cut edges of the stones used for the bridge. They were carefully wedged so they would not slip, even with a man's weight on them.

“Where did he drop it?” Benjamin asked Antonia.

“He bent forward to look at his boot,” she replied. “He thought he might have cut the leather, but it was only scuffed.”

“And where did you look?”

“On the path, in the snow, and at the edge of the water, in case it went in. The mother-of-pearl would have caught the light,” she replied.

Henry looked at the bridge stones where they were wedged. “Did he put his foot up here to look at the boot?”

“Yes. Oh!” Antonia's face lit. “You mean it fell between the stones there? And perhaps he remembered…”

“Is it possible?” He knew from her face that it was.

Ephraim turned his face toward the stream. “Do you suppose Gower took the horse up there, with Judah slung across it?”

They all followed his eyes, seeing the winding course of it, the deeps and shallows.

“Possibly,” Henry answered. “Or left it here, and walked, dragging him. Neither would be easy, and it would have taken far longer than we originally thought. He must have been away from home a good deal of the night, and half dead with cold after going a mile or more upstream, up to his thighs in icy water, either leading the horse, which would have been reluctant, or dragging the body. And then he had to tramp home through the snow. I wouldn't be surprised if his feet were frostbitten by it.”

“Good!” Ephraim snapped. “I hope he loses his toes.”

“He wouldn't risk going to Leighton with it,” Benjamin said thoughtfully. The wind was rising and over to the west the sky was gray. “There's more snow coming,” he went on. “We know now what happened. We can make plans what to do best at home. Come on.” And he turned and started to lead the way back again, offering his arm to Antonia.

fter having taken off thier wet clothes, they assembled around the fire. Mrs. Hardcastle brought them hot cocoa and ginger cake, then they set about the serious discussion of what they could each do to bring Ashton Gower to justice.

No one questioned that Benjamin had a high intelligence, a keen and orderly mind that, if he governed the overriding emotion of outrage, he could use to direct the investigation. He could make sense of all they could learn and integrate it into one story to lay before the authorities. His leadership was taken for granted.

Ephraim had courage and a power that would accept no defeat as sufficient to deflect him from his purpose. Now they were certain that there was a crime to solve, his strength would be invaluable.

It was Henry who suggested that they should also make use of Naomi's charm to gain what might otherwise be beyond their reach. Laughter and a quick smile often achieved what demand could not, and she agreed immediately, as keen as anyone else to help.

Antonia, newly widowed and with such a young child, was required by custom and decorum to remain at home. Apart from that, she had no desire at all to leave Joshua with a governess or tutor while he puzzled as to what all the adults were doing, knowing something was desperately wrong, but not told what it was, or how they hoped to resolve it. However, her reputation and the regard she had earned in her years in the village would stand well in their favor.

“We will take luncheon early and begin this afternoon,” Benjamin declared. His face was grave as he turned to Ephraim. “There is at least one man in the village who knows what manner of man Gower is, and that is Colgrave. He is not an easy man to like, but