He saw before him a tall, heavily-built man, with a large, solemn, deeply-lined face, out of which looked a pair of the smallest and slyest eyes ever seen in a human being--queer, almost hidden eyes, set beneath thick bushy eyebrows above which rose the dome of an unusually high forehead and a bald head.

As for the rest of him, Mr.Peter Chatfield had a snub nose, a wide slit of a mouth, and a flabby hand; his garments were of a Quaker kind in cut and hue; he wore old-fashioned stand-up collars and a voluminous black stock; in one hand he carried a stout oaken staff, in the other a square-crowned beaver hat; altogether, his mere outward appearance would have gained notice for him anywhere, and Copplestone rejoiced in him as a character.
He rose, greeted his visitor cordially, and invited him to a seat by the fire.

The estate agent settled his heavy figure comfortably, and made a careful inspection of the young stranger before he spoke.

At last he leaned forward.
"Sir!" he whispered in a confidential tone.

"Do you consider this here a matter of murder ?".