ething serious was afoot.

On reaching the Manor House, the sergeant had found the drawbridge
down, the windows lighted up, and the whole household in a state of wild
confusion and alarm. The white-faced servants were huddling together in
the hall, with the frightened butler wringing his hands in the doorway.
Only Cecil Barker seemed to be master of himself and his emotions;
he had opened the door which was nearest to the entrance and he had
beckoned to the sergeant to follow him. At that moment there arrived
Dr. Wood, a brisk and capable general practitioner from the village.
The three men entered the fatal room together, while the horror-stricken
butler followed at their heels, closing the door behind him to shut out
the terrible scene from the maid servants.

The dead man lay on his back, sprawling with outstretched limbs in the
centre of the room. He was clad only in a pink dressing gown, which
covered his night clothes. There were carpet slippers on his bare feet.
The doctor knelt beside him and held down the hand lamp which had stood
on the table. One glance at the victim was enough to show the healer
that his presence could be dispensed with. The man had been horribly
injured. Lying across his chest was a curious weapon, a shotgun with the
barrel sawed off a foot in front of the triggers. It was clear that this
had been fired at close range and that he had received the whole charge
in the face, blowing his head almost to pieces. The triggers had
been wired together, so as to make the simultaneous discharge more
destructive.

The country policeman was unnerved and troubled by the tremendous
responsibility which had come so suddenly upon him. "We will touch
nothing until my superiors arrive," he said in a hushed voice, staring
in horror at the dreadful head.

"Nothing has been touched up to now," said Cecil Barker. "I'll answer
for that. You see it all exactly as I found it."

"When was that?" The sergeant had drawn out his notebook.

"It was just half-past eleven. I had not begun to undress, and I was
sitting by the fire in my bedroom when I heard the report. It was not
very loud--it seemed to be muffled. I rushed down--I don't suppose it
was thirty seconds before I was in the room."

"Was the door open?"

"Yes, it was open. Poor Douglas was lying as you see him. His bedroom
candle was burning on the table. It was I who lit the lamp some minutes
afterward."

"Did you see no one?"

"No. I heard Mrs. Do