we must deal with the facts, even though they be painful."

"Undoubtedly," agreed Thorndyke.

"I have had a great deal of very unpleasant correspondence with
him--Marchmont will tell you about that--and yesterday I left a note for
him, asking for an interview, to settle the business, naming eight
o'clock this morning as the hour, because I had to leave town before
noon. He replied, in a very singular letter, that he would see me at
that hour, and Mr. Marchmont very kindly consented to accompany me.
Accordingly, we went to his chambers together this morning, arriving
punctually at eight o'clock. We rang the bell several times, and knocked
loudly at the door, but as there was no response, we went down and
spoke to the hall-porter. This man, it seems, had already noticed, from
the courtyard, that the electric lights were full on in Mr. Hartridge's
sitting-room, as they had been all night, according to the statement of
the night-porter; so now, suspecting that something was wrong, he came
up with us, and rang the bell and battered at the door. Then, as there
was still no sign of life within, he inserted his duplicate key and
tried to open the door--unsuccessfully, however, as it proved to be
bolted on the inside. Thereupon the porter fetched a constable, and,
after a consultation, we decided that we were justified in breaking open
the door; the porter produced a crowbar, and by our unified efforts the
door was eventually burst open. We entered, and--my God! Dr. Thorndyke,
what a terrible sight it was that met our eyes! My brother-in-law was
lying dead on the floor of the sitting-room. He had been
stabbed--stabbed to death; and the dagger had not even been withdrawn.
It was still sticking out of his back."

He mopped his face with his handkerchief, and was about to continue his
account of the catastrophe when the carriage entered a quiet side-street
between Westminster and Victoria, and drew up before a block of tall,
new, red-brick buildings. A flurried hall-porter ran out to open the
door, and we alighted opposite the main entrance.

"My brother-in-law's chambers are on the second-floor," said Mr. Curtis.
"We can go up in the lift."

The porter had hurried before us, and already stood with his hand upon
the rope. We entered the lift, and in a few seconds were discharged on
to the second floor, the porter, with furtive curiosity, following us
down the corridor. At the end of the passage was a half-open door,
considera