A Fair Fraud — page 215: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

204 _ A Fair Fraud ‘But who—who is it ?’ cried Mrs Drury. It was noticeable that Mrs Lane did not utter a word. . Only there was a burning light in her restless eyes as she turned them quickly from one speaker to the other. Hester lay still on the sofa, and Marion was bathing her forehead with eau de Cologne, and holding a salts bottle to her nose. She was beginning to revive from her swoon. Mr Drury shook himself free of young Grigson as soon as he could, and mopped his brow wearily. ‘I don’t know in the least who the chap is. He was loafing about in the woods, and young Grigson took him for a pheasant, it seems— pretty big pheasant, leaning against a tree!— and he shot him as dead as a door-nail. It's the only thing he has shot all day,’ added Mr Drury, grimly. ‘Good Heavens! how terrible! But who is the poor fellow? Was he a poacher?’ ‘Apparently not; he had no gun. One of the men who is helping to carry the body up says he believes him to be a stranger who has been lodging lately at the farm. I’ve told the man to go back and fetch Watson, the farmer, and see if he can identify him. Did you speak, Mrs Lane?’ An inarticulate sound seemed to have pro- ceeded from that lady. GORMGIOO oO G' Q)