ar any noise--like a fall,
or something. How about that, Mr. Darcy?"

"Well, no. I didn't exactly hear anything. I went to bed about half
past ten, after working at my table down here awhile."

"Was Mrs. Darcy in bed then?" Thong asked.

"I couldn't say. She had gone to her apartment, but I don't have to
pass near that to get to my room. I came straight up and went to bed."

"At ten o'clock, you say?"

"A little after. It may have been a quarter to eleven."

"And you didn't hear anything all night?" Carroll shot this question
at Darcy suddenly.

"No--no--not exactly, I did hear _something_--it wasn't exactly a
noise--and yet it was a noise."

"What kind of talk is that?" demanded Thong roughly. "Either it was a
noise or it wasn't! Now which was it?"

"Well, if you call a clock striking a noise, then it was one."

"Oh, a clock struck!" and Thong settled back in his chair more at his
ease. His manner seemed to indicate that he was on the track of
something.

"Yes, a clock struck. It was either three or four, I can't be sure
which," Darcy replied. "You know when you awaken in the night, and
hear the strokes, you can't be sure you haven't missed some of the
first ones. I heard three, anyhow, I'm sure of that."

"Well, put it down as three," suggested Thong. "Was it the striking of
the clock that awakened you?"

"No, not exactly. It was more as if some one had been in my room."

"Some one in your room!" exclaimed both detectives. They were
questioning Darcy in the living-room of Mrs. Darcy's suite, the clerks
being detained downstairs by Mulligan. The county physician, who was
also the coroner, had not yet arrived.

"Yes, at first I thought some one had been in my room, and then, after
I thought about it, I wasn't quite sure. All I know is I slept quite
soundly--sounder than usual in fact, and, all at once, I heard a clock
strike."

"Three or four," murmured Thong.

"Yes; three anyhow--maybe four. Something awakened me suddenly; but
what, I can't say. I remember, at the time, it felt as though
something had passed over my face."

"Like a hand?" suggested Carroll.

"Well, I couldn't be sure. It may have been I dreamed it."

"But what did it _feel_ like?" insisted Thong.

"Well, like a cloth brushing my face more than like a hand--or it may
have been a hand with a glove on it. Yes, it may have been that. Then
I tried to arouse myself, but I heard the wind blowing and a sprinkle