-"

Kelson made an irresolute movement as though wavering between the
implied invitation to quit the room and an inclination not to run
away from the grim business. He glanced at Gifford, who showed no
sign of moving.

"Just as you like," he replied in a hushed voice. "Perhaps we had better
stay here till you come back."

"All right," Morriston assented. "Don't let any one come in, and I
suppose we ought not to move anything in the room till the police
have seen it."

He went out, closing the door.

"I can't make this out, Hugh," Kelson said, pulling himself together and
moving to the opposite side of the room.

"No," Gifford responded mechanically.

"He," Kelson continued, "certainly did not give one the idea of a man who
had come down here to make away with himself."

"On the contrary," his friend murmured in the same preoccupied tone.

"What do you think? How can you account for it?" Kelson demanded, as
appealing to the other's greater knowledge of the world.

It seemed to be with an effort that Gifford released himself from the
fascination that held his gaze to the tragedy. "It is an absolute
mystery," he replied, moving to where his friend stood.

"A woman in it?"

For a moment Gifford did not answer. Then he said, "No doubt about it, I
should imagine."

"It's awful," Kelson said, driven, perhaps for the first time in his
life, from his habitually casual way of regarding serious things, and
maybe roused by Gifford's apathy. "We didn't like--the man did not appeal
to us; but to die like this. It's horrible. And I dare say it happened
while the dance was in full swing down there. Why, man, Muriel and I were
in the room below. I proposed to her there. And all the time this was
just above us."

"It is horrible; one doesn't like to think of it," Gifford said
reticently.

"I cannot understand it," Kelson went on, with a sharp gesture of
perplexity. "I can imagine some sort of love affair bringing the poor
fellow down to this place; but that he should come up here and do this
thing, even if it went wrong, is more than I can conceive. Taking the man
as we knew him it is out of all reason."

"Yes," Gifford assented. "But we don't know yet that it is a case
of suicide."

"What else?" Kelson returned. "How otherwise could the door have been
locked. Unless--" He glanced sharply at the deep recess, or inner
chamber, formed by the bartizan, hesitated a moment, and then going
quickly to it, looked in.

"