he long and vainly sought for any other theory which
would account for her brother's death. If he had been murdered, as in the
first flush of her indignation she had declared, who had killed him? Who
had gone to the lonely old house in the darkness of the night, and struck
him down?

It was not until the first faint glimmering of dawn was pushing its grey
way through the closed shutters that there came to her the recollection of
an incident of the previous day which had left a deep mark upon her mind
at the time, but had since been covered over by the throng of later
tremendous events. It was the memory of that momentary glance of a pair of
eyes through the slit of the door while her brother was telling of his
daughter's illegitimacy and her mother's shame. In the light of Robert's
subsequent death that incident appeared in a new sinister shape as a clue
to the commission of the deed itself. With the recollection of that glance
there sprang almost simultaneously before her mental vision the grim and
forbidding features of her brother's servant, Thalassa.

If she had been asked, Mrs. Pendleton could not have given a satisfactory
reason for linking Thalassa with the incident of the eyes, but she was a
woman, and not concerned about reasons. The two impressions had scurried
swiftfooted, into her mind together, and there they remained. She was now
convinced that she had all along believed it was Thalassa she had seen
watching through the door, watching and listening for some fell purpose of
his own. She knew nothing about Thalassa, but she had taken an instant
dislike to him when she first saw him. That vague dislike now assumed the
form of active suspicion against him. She determined, with the
impulsiveness which was part of her temperament, to bring her suspicion
before the police at the earliest possible moment.

She was essentially a woman of action, and in spite of her sleepless night
she was up and dressed before her husband was awake. He came down to
breakfast to find his wife had already finished hers, and was dressed
ready to go out.

"Where is Sisily?" he asked, with, a glance at the girl's vacant place.

"I've ordered her breakfast to be taken to her room, and sent word to her
to rest in bed until I go to her," his wife replied. "I have a painful
ordeal before me in breaking the news of Robert's death to her. It's all
over the hotel already, unfortunately. Sisily is out of the way of gossip
in her room. After