u can do. I will let you know if I want to see you
at any time."

"Thank you. Good night!" She was gone without another word.

Colwyn stood at his door watching her until she disappeared into the
passage which led to her own room. Then he turned into his bedroom and
shut the door behind him.

He walked to the window and threw it open. The sea mist, driving over
the silent marshes like a cloud, touched his face coldly as he stood
there, meditating on the strange turn of events which had brought him
back to the inn to pursue his investigations into the murder at the
point where he had left them more than a fortnight before. In that brief
period how much had happened! Penreath had been tried and sentenced to
death for a crime which Colwyn now believed he had not committed.
Chance--no, Destiny--by placing in his hand a significant clue, had
directed his footsteps thither, and left it for his intelligence to
atone for his past blunder before it was too late.

It was with a feeling that the hand of Destiny was upon him that Colwyn
turned from the window and regarded the little room with keen
curiosity. Its drab interior held a secret which was a challenge to his
intelligence to discover. What had happened in that room the night
Ronald slept there? He noted the articles of furniture one by one.
Nothing seemed changed since he had last been in the room, the day after
the murder was committed. There was a washstand near the window, a chest
of drawers, a dressing table and a large wardrobe at the side of the
bed. Colwyn looked at this last piece of furniture with the same
interest he had felt when he saw it the first time. It was far too big
and cumbrous a wardrobe for so small a room, about eight feet high and
five feet in width, and it was placed in the most inconvenient part of
the room, by the side of the bed, not far from the wall which abutted on
the passage. He opened its double doors and looked within. The wardrobe
was empty.

Colwyn made a methodical search of the room in the hope of discovering
something which would throw light on the events of the night of the
murder. Doubtless the room had not been occupied since Penreath had
slept there, and he might have left something behind him--perhaps some
forgotten scrap of paper which might help to throw light on this strange
and sinister mystery. In the detection of crime seeming trifles often
lead to important discoveries, as nobody was better aware than Colwyn.
But th