The Caravan Crime by Fergus Hume — Read

Sarley Village--the inhabitants insisted upon the majesty of the full name--was made up of many cottages, round about and climbing up a tolerably high hill, topped by the church with its wooden spire. The narrow streets ran crookedly anyhow and anywhere, leading into one another, leading into the surrounding country lanes confusedly. There were no sidewalks, and the cobblestone pavements sloped inward to central open drains, down which poured the spring and autumn rains in torrents. These last washed away all refuse, and kept the place in a sanitary condition, so this continual cleansing, together with the stimulating winds from the North Sea, made the locality singularly healthy. The cottages had whitewashed walls, thatched roofs, quaint, diamond-paned casements, and narrow, low doors. It was quite a primeval village, such as Arthur's knights might have stumbled across, and the villagers prided themselves on its simplicity. That such a place should keep its prehistoric appearance when only four miles from the main railway to London was a source of pride to all who dwelt therein.

The Monk's Inn--two cottages thrown into one--was the largest house in the hamlet, and here the inhabitants collected after the day's work was done to discuss the small events to their small world. Mostly, the gossips were agricultural laborers, for Sarley Village was set in the midst of spacious cornlands, dotted with farms, more or less prosperous. From the churchyard could be seen the marshes, the broad silver line of the Thames, and the distant loom of the Kentish hills. But inland, from the cluster of cottages, stretched a rich land of alluvial soil, with wheat fields, blossoming hedges, and here and there limited woodlands, the remains of a once overspreading forest. Sarley Court, divided from the hamlet by Sarley Wood, lay to the left of the hill, and Sarley Grange to the right, two and a trifle more miles away.