solve the enigma," Dr. Farmer observed. "I was
an army surgeon before I entered private practice, but I have never
seen a similar case."

"Nor have I," responded Sir Bernard. "It is most puzzling."

"Do you think that this knife could have been used?" I asked, handing
my chief the weapon.

He looked at it, raised it in his hand as though to strike, felt its
edge, and then shook his head, saying: "No, I think not. The
instrument used was only sharp on one edge. This has both edges
sharpened."

It was a point we had overlooked, but at once we agreed with him, and
abandoned our half-formed theory that the Indian dagger had caused the
wound.

With Sir Bernard we made an examination of the tongue and other
organs, in order to ascertain the progress of the disease from which
the deceased had been suffering, but a detailed account of our
discoveries can have no interest for the lay reader.

In a word, our conclusions were that the murdered man could easily
have lived another year or more. The disease was not so advanced as we
had believed. Sir Bernard had a patient to see in Grosvenor Square;
therefore he left at about four o'clock, regretting that he had not
time to call round at the neighbour's and express his sympathy with
the widow.

"Give her all my sympathies, poor young lady," he said to me. "And
tell her that I will call upon her to-morrow." Then, after promising
to attend the inquest and give evidence regarding the post-mortem, he
shook hands with us both and left.

At eight o'clock that evening I was back in my own rooms in Harley
Place, eating my dinner alone, when Ambler Jevons entered.

He was not as cheery as usual. He did not exclaim, as was his habit,
"Well, my boy, how goes it? Whom have you killed to-day?" or some such
grim pleasantry.

On the contrary, he came in with scarcely a word, threw his hat upon a
side table, and sank into his usual arm chair with scarcely a word,
save the question uttered in almost a growl:

"May I smoke?"

"Of course," I said, continuing my meal. "Where have you been?"

"I left while you were cutting up the body," he said. "I've been about
a lot since then, and I'm a bit tired."

"You look it. Have a drink?"

"No," he responded, shaking his head. "I don't drink when I'm
bothered. This case is an absolute mystery." And striking a match he
lit his foul pipe and puffed away vigorously, staring straight into
the fire the while.

"Well," I asked, after a long sil