each side of the wound,
such a mark as might be made by the handle or guard of a dagger, and
sufficiently plain to leave no doubt in my mind that it was so made."

"Had the wound a downward course, or was it a straight thrust?"

"A straight thrust," the doctor replied. "My idea is that the two men
were grappling together, and that as Mr. Thorndyke was a very powerful
man, his assailant, who probably was approaching the bed with the
dagger in his hand, plunged it into him; had he struck at him I should
certainly have expected the course of the wound to be downward, as I
fancy a man very seldom thrusts straight with a dagger, as he would do
with a rapier."

When the inquest was over, Mark, going out into the hall, found the
doctor waiting there for him.

"Mr. Bastow breathed his last some ten minutes ago. I saw when I went up
to him just before I gave my evidence that it was likely that he would
die before I returned to the room."

"I am very sorry," Mark said, "although I expected nothing else from
what you told me: He was a very kind hearted man; no one could have
had a kinder or more patient tutor than he was to me, while my father
regarded him as a very dear and valued friend. I am expecting the
undertaker here in a few minutes, and they can both be buried at the
same time."

It was late in the afternoon before Millicent came down with Mrs.
Cunningham. The news of Mr. Bastow's death had set her tears flowing
afresh; she had been very fond of him, and that he and the Squire should
have been taken at once seemed almost beyond belief. She had, however,
nerved herself to some degree of composure before she went down to meet
Mark; but although she returned the pressure of his hand, she was unable
for some time to speak. Mrs. Cunningham thought it best to speak first
on the minor grief.

"So Mr. Bastow has gone, Mark?"

"Yes, Dr. Holloway thought very badly of him yesterday, and said that he
had but very faint hope of his rallying. I cannot help thinking that it
was best so. Of course, he was not a very old man, but he has for some
years been a very feeble one, and now that Millicent and I have both
given up our studies with him, I think that he would have felt that his
work was done, and would have gone downhill very fast."

"I think so, too," Mrs. Cunningham agreed. "I am sure that even had the
Squire's death come quietly, in the course of nature, it would have
been a terrible blow to him. He was fond of you an