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“
What
news
?
”
“
That
there
has
been
another
murder
there
last
night
!
”
“
What
?
”
Leaving
my
breakfast
,
I
caught
up
my
hat
and
ran
as
fast
as
I
could
.
Another
murder
—
and
Poirot
away
!
What
fatality
.
But
who
had
been
murdered
?
I
dashed
in
at
the
gate
.
A
group
of
the
servants
was
in
the
drive
,
talking
and
gesticulating
.
I
caught
hold
of
Françoise
.
“
What
has
happened
?
”
“
Oh
,
monsieur
!
monsieur
!
Another
death
!
It
is
terrible
.
There
is
a
curse
upon
the
house
.
But
yes
,
I
say
it
,
a
curse
!
They
should
send
for
M
.
le
curé
to
bring
some
holy
water
.
Never
will
I
sleep
another
night
under
that
roof
.
It
might
be
my
turn
,
who
knows
?
”
She
crossed
herself
.
“
Yes
,
”
I
cried
,
“
but
who
has
been
killed
?
”
“
Do
I
know
—
me
?
A
man
—
a
stranger
.
They
found
him
up
there
—
in
the
shed
—
not
a
hundred
yards
from
where
they
found
poor
Monsieur
.
And
that
is
not
all
.
He
is
stabbed
—
stabbed
to
the
heart
with
the
same
dagger
!
”
