d Artis, "some one killed this black fellow when trying to
rob his master."

"Absurd!" cried Capel angrily, as he bent down over the dead man. "Look
here," he cried, "whoever it was must have been wounded. This knife is
covered with blood."

"His own, perhaps," said Artis.

"May be so, but I think not. Now, Mr Girtle, what next?"

"The police," said the old lawyer huskily. "Preenham, fetch me a little
brandy; this terrible scene has made me faint."

"Go, sir? Leave you here?"

"Yes, go at once," said Mr Girtle, and there seemed to be an
unwillingness to leave, as the butler went out and closed the door.

"You did not want that brandy," said Artis quickly. "You wanted to get
rid of him for a few minutes. I know what you are thinking--that it was
that scoundrelly-faced footman."

"Yes, you have guessed my thoughts."

"And you suspect the butler?"

"I do not say that, sir," said the lawyer coldly. "We do not know that
there has been any robbery until the plate is examined, but we ought to
have sent for a doctor at once."

"I'll go," said Capel, and hurrying out of the room, he ran down the
stairs, caught his hat from the stand, and hurried from street to street
till he saw the familiar red-eyed lamp.

Five minutes after he was on his way back in a cab, with a keen-looking,
youngish man, to whom he gave an account of the morning's discovery.

"Have you given notice to the police?"

"No."

"If I were you, I should send a messenger straight to Scotland Yard. It
will save you from the blundering of some young constable. Humph--too
late."

For, as they reached the room, there was the familiar helmet of one of
the force, the man having found the door left open by Capel and rung.

He was a heavy, dull-looking man, who seemed, as he stood in the
darkened room, to consider it his duty to thrust his hand in his belt,
and stare at the ghastly figure on the floor.

Meanwhile the doctor was busily examining the body of the Indian
servant.

"Quite dead!" said Mr Girtle.

"Yes. _Rigor mortis_ has set in."

"Suicide?"

"Suicide, sir? Oh, bless my soul, no."

"But that weapon?"

"Yes, some one had an awful cut with that, I should say," continued the
doctor, and the constable mentally drew a line from the kukri to the
open window, out on to the leads, and down into the mews.

"What has caused his death?"

"I cannot tell you yet," said the doctor. "Hold the light here, closer,
please. Hah, th