the puny plot of the story was so thin, however, when compared to the deep mystery through which we were groping, and i found my attention wander so continually from the action to the fact, that i at last flung it across the room and gave myself up entirely to a consideration of the events of the day. supposing that this unhappy young man’s story were absolutely true, then what hellish thing, what absolutely unforeseen and extraordinary calamity could have occurred between the time when he parted from his father, and the moment when, drawn back by his screams, he rushed into the glade? it was something terrible and deadly. what could it be? might not the nature of the injuries reveal something to my medical instincts? i rang the bell and called for the weekly county paper, which contained a verbatim account of the inquest.