"It was a typical Dickens' Christmas -- deep snow everywhere -- and down in the little village of Sittaford on the fringe of Dartmoor, the snow was the deepest of all. Mrs. Willett, the winter tenant in Captain Trevelyan's country house, had given a party and the guests were now snowbound. They decided to do a little table-turning, and suddenly the table announced that Captain Trevelyan was dead. His oldest friend, Major Burnaby, was disturbed, and...