up a tree—quite a difficult tree—growing in the hedgerow a dead branch gives way, and he comes down with it and breaks his neck, and there he's found next morning with the most dreadful face of fear on him that could be imagined. It was pretty evident, of course, that he had been chased by something, and people talked of savage dogs, and beasts escaped out of menageries; but there was nothing to be made of that. That was in ’89, and I believe his brother Henry (whom I remember as well at Cambridge, but you probably don't) has been trying to get on the track of an explanation ever since. He, of course, insists there was malice in it, but I don't know. It's difficult to see how it could have come in.”
After a time the talk reverted to the “History of Witchcraft.” “Did you ever look into it?” asked the host.
“Yes, I did,” said the Secretary. “I went so far as to read it.”
“Was it as bad as it was made out to be?”
“Oh, in point of style and form, quite
8
