is locked from the
inside. We'll have to go through the bedroom. Johann, bring me a chisel
or a hatchet. Muller, you stay here and open the door when the doctor
comes."

Muller nodded. Johann disappeared, returning in a few moments with a
small hatchet, and followed the commissioner through the dining-room. It
was an attractive apartment with its high wooden paneling and its dainty
breakfast table. But a slight shiver ran through the commissioner's
frame as he realised that some misfortune, some crime even might be
waiting for them on the other side of the closed door. The bedroom door
also was locked on the inside, and after some moments of knocking and
calling, Horn set the hatchet to the framework just as the bell of the
house-door pealed out.

With a cracking and tearing of wood the bedroom door fell open, and in
the same moment Muller and the physician passed through the dining-room.
Johann hurried into the bedroom to open the window-shutters, and the
others gathered in the doorway. A single look showed each of the men
that the bed was untouched, and they passed on through the room. The
door from the bedroom to the study stood open. In the latter room the
shutters were tightly closed, and the lamp had long since gone out. But
sufficient light fell through the open bedroom door for the men to see
the figure of the Professor seated at his desk, and when Johann had
opened the shutters, it was plain to all that the silent figure before
them was that of a corpse.

"Heart disease, probably," murmured the physician, as he touched the icy
forehead. Then he felt the pulse of the stiffened hand from which the
pen had fallen in the moment of death, raised the drooping head and
lifted up the half-closed eyelids. The eyes were glazed.

The others looked on in silence. Horn was very pale, and his usually
calm face showed great emotion. Johann seemed quite beside himself, the
tears rolled down his cheeks unhindered. Muller stood without a sign
of life, his sallow face seemed made of bronze; he was watching and
listening. He seemed to hear and see what no one else could see or hear.
He smiled slightly when the doctor spoke of "heart disease," and his
eyes fell on the revolver that lay near the dead man's hand on the desk.
Then he shook his head, and then he started suddenly. Horn noticed the
movement; it was in the moment when the physician raised up the sunken
figure that had fallen half over the desk.

"He was killed by a