ttle while before he retired. The poor soul looked for it, he said,
and grew restless if he was late.

"Who is sitting with her at present?" inquired the detective.

"My daughter, sir. She always waits till I go up."

"You never leave her alone, then?"

"Only at night-time, sir. The doctor told me she could be safely left at
night. She sleeps fairly well, considering, though when there's wild
weather I always go in to her. The sound of the wind shrieking across
the marshes from the sea excites her, and we get a lot of that sort of
weather on the Norfolk coast, particularly in the winter months. I wish
I could afford to have her better looked after, but I cannot, and that's
the long and short of it."

"Things are pretty bad with you, Benson?"

"Very bad, indeed, sir. It keeps me awake at night, wondering where it's
all going to end. However, I don't want to burden you with my
troubles--I suppose we all have our own to bear. I merely came in to
bring your candlestick, and to ask you if there is anything you want
before I go to bed. Charles is gone to his room, but Ann is still up."

"Tell Ann she need not sit up on my account. I need nothing further, and
I can find my way to my room. Is it ready yet?"

"Quite, sir. Ann has just been up there, putting on some fresh sheets.
Perhaps you wouldn't mind turning off the gas at the meter as you go
up--it is just underneath the stairs. If you would not mind the trouble
Ann could then go to bed. We keep early hours here, as a rule. There is
nothing to sit up for."

"I'll turn off the gas--I know where the meter is. How is it, Benson,
that the gas is laid on in only two of the rooms upstairs--the rooms Mr.
Glenthorpe used to occupy? It would have been an easy matter to lay it
on to the adjoining rooms, once the pipes had been taken upstairs."

"That's quite true, sir, but the gas was taken upstairs on Mr.
Glenthorpe's account, shortly after he came here. He thought he would
like it, and he paid the bill for having it fixed. But after it was laid
on he rarely used it. He said he found the gaslight trying for his eyes
when he wanted to read in bed, so he got a reading lamp."

"And yet the gas tap was partly turned on in his room the morning after
the murder," remarked Colwyn meditatively.

"Perhaps the murderer turned it on," suggested the innkeeper in a low
tone.

But there was a slight tremor in his voice that did not escape the keen
ears of the detective.

"That is