ining it, it had received the impact of a body sufficiently heavy
to throw it askew. At this point on the railing there was a deep
triangular dent, destined to assume a high place in solving the problem
of Felix Page's murder.

When I stood directly in front of the bath room door, I could look down
over the balustrade to the landing--the body had been removed to a more
suitable place--and I could also see the front door and most of the
first-floor hall.

A dozen or so feet west of the stair-well two doors opened upon the
lateral passage. They were directly opposite each other; the front
room having been the one occupied by Maillot the previous night, while
the other was Burke's.

Now as I allowed my glance to rove along the dim-lighted hall in the
direction of the two bed-chambers, it was at once arrested by some
small--and at the distance, indistinguishable--object lying in the
centre of the floor a few feet beyond the two doors. I went and picked
it up.

It was the shabby leather jewel-case.

But now it bore many indications of extremely rough usage. It was not
only open, but empty; the lid was bent, twisted out of shape, and
hanging precariously by one damaged hinge. The leather was freshly
torn and scratched, while the inner lining of faded blue satin had been
slit in a number of places. I contrived after some manipulation to get
the box into a semblance of its former shape, and then slipped it into
a pocket of my coat.

Neither Maillot's room nor Burke's revealed anything of much
consequence. In the former I noted the open wardrobe door, and, owing
to its position relative to the bed, was obliged to admit the
likelihood of Maillot's accident. In the other room, in a small
leather satchel, were the papers by which Burke accounted for his
presence. They were of no interest to me. I turned them over to Mr.
White, who, with the other gentlemen, was just departing.

With a feeling of lively anticipation, I entered the bath room. I had
not forgotten that this room alone had been designated by a
distinguishing mark on the chart which I had found while following the
mysterious footprints. But I discovered nothing to justify my hopes.
The place was monotonously like other bath rooms in which I had been.
I gave it an exceptionally thorough overhauling, then went carefully
over it once more--even resorting to my magnifying-glass from time to
time--but all to no purpose; the room was discouragingly wanting