ked up at my companion.

"Holmes," I said solemnly, "the Earl is dead! Murder has been added to
robbery here!"

"That so, Doc?" queried the cold-blooded old cuss, blowing out a
cloud of cigarette-smoke and yawning. "Well, what'll I do
first,--magnifying-glass or tape-measure?"

"Holmes," I remonstrated sharply, unable to contain myself at his
manner, "if you had come down here six hours ago when we heard that
noise, we might have caught the criminals! Now it's too late."

And I turned to examine the bruise on the Earl's forehead.

"Oh, keep your shirt on, Watson," retorted Holmes, "I'm not the Earl's
private bodyguard, and what's more, I'm not concerned with what might
be, but with what _is_. Are you sure he's dead, or are you only making
another awkward mistake? 'Twould be rather embarrassing, I should
think, to have the Earl wake up in a minute and tell us he's not
dead!"

At this insult to my professional ability as a physician, I got on my
ear, and said with a grouch:

"Well, if you don't think he's dead, just see whether _you_ can detect
any heart-beat there,--smart as you are."

Holmes was bending down over the apparent corpse, when we heard some
one walking along the corridor outside.

"Quick, Watson, sneak into this closet here, and observe
developments!" whispered Holmes, as he gripped me by the arm, and
hustled me into the closet, the door of which stood slightly ajar.

In a moment more Her Ladyship, Annabelle, Countess of Puddingham,
appeared in the Earl's room, took one look at her husband's recumbent
form on the floor, and let out a scream that might have been heard in
the next county, before she toppled over in a dead faint.

Holmes rushed out of the closet, seized her just in time to prevent
her falling over the Earl's body, and whispered to me, as he placed
her propped up in a chair, and as various people were heard running
through the other rooms toward us, attracted by the Countess's scream:

"Well, _she_ didn't have a hand in this, Doc. That scream was genuine,
and she didn't know we were listening, either."

A small crowd of servants, all gaping in amazement, now filled the
doorway, and Holmes asked authoritatively:

"Which one of you people is the Earl's valet?" Adding: "You had better
lay your master on the bed there."

One of the men stepped forward, and answered:

"I am the Earl's valet, sir. Is His Lordship dead?"

"Well, Dr. Watson says he is. But lay him out on the bed, an