so worn by constant handling that there was only the
faintest trace of what they had originally been. He could see an "M" and
two other letters that looked like "C" and "A."

"M.C.A.?"

He puzzled his brain to interpret the initials. Presently the butler came
back.

"The young lady is in a terrible state, sir, and I have sent for Dr.
Thomas."

Tarling nodded.

"You have done very wisely," he said. "Poor girl, she has had a terrible
shock."

Again he went to the telephone, and this time he got into connection with
a nursing home in London and arranged for an ambulance to pick up the
girl without further delay. When he had telephoned to Scotland Yard he
had asked as an after-thought that a messenger should be sent to Ling
Chu, instructing him to come without delay. He had the greatest faith
in the Chinaman, particularly in a case like this where the trail was
fresh, for Ling Chu was possessed of super-human gifts which only the
blood-hound could rival.

"Nobody must go upstairs," he instructed the butler. "When the doctor and
the coroner's officer come, they must be admitted by the principal
entrance, and if I am not here, you must understand that under no
circumstances are those stairs leading to the portico to be used."

He himself went out of the main entrance to make a tour of the grounds.
He had little hope that that search would lead to anything. Clues there
might be in plenty when the daylight revealed them, but the likelihood of
the murderer remaining in the vicinity of the scene of his crime was a
remote one.

The grounds were extensive and well-wooded. Numerous winding paths met,
and forked aimlessly, radiating out from the broad gravel paths about the
house to the high walls which encircled the little estate.

In one corner of the grounds was a fairly large patch, innocent of bush
and offering no cover at all. He made a casual survey of this, sweeping
his light across the ordered rows of growing vegetables, and was going
away when he saw a black bulk which had the appearance, even in the
darkness, of a gardener's house. He swept this possible cover with his
lamp.

Was his imagination playing him a trick, or had he caught the briefest
glimpse of a white face peering round the corner? He put on his light
again. There was nothing visible. He walked to the building and round it.
There was nobody in sight. He thought he saw a dark form under the shadow
of the building moving towards the belt of pines