n to see if it was on straight.

"You--you slept in that room!" she cried, turning a bit white.
"Why--you--what could you have been thinking of?"

"Don't think about it," I said, patting the hand she had placed upon my
arm. My realization of her concern, her love, her fears, because of my
possible danger, filled me with joy. "We are just going there now, and
I hope to explain to all of you just what happened. But I would not
advise you to use it as a guest chamber, in future," I concluded with a
slight laugh.

The Major lead the way, with Sergeant McQuade at his heels. The little
man from Scotland Yard was all professional eagerness. He felt, no
doubt, that his reputation as a detective had been brought into
question. He had worked on the case for nearly a week and had succeeded
only in arresting a number of innocent persons, while it was left for
myself, a rank outsider, to discover the solution of the mystery which
had so completely baffled himself and his men. I could not help feeling
a secret sensation of satisfaction. The Sergeant had acted very decently
all through, I had to admit, but I had not quite forgiven Inspector
Burns and himself for the famous theory they had so carefully
constructed, which resulted in so much suffering on Muriel's part, as
well as a great deal of discomfort and unhappiness upon my own.

As we followed the others up the stairway, she took my arm and pressed
it gently, and the look she gave me repaid me many times over for all
the horrors of the night just past.

McQuade took out his key as we reached the door of the room, but I
explained that it was not locked, and that Major Temple had opened it
the night before with a duplicate key. The pool of blood on the floor of
the hall, which had collected while I lay there earlier in the morning,
still gave mute evidence of the experience through which I had passed.
Muriel shuddered as she looked at it, but I hurriedly pushed open the
door, and bade the others enter. I had no desire for further sympathy
nor did I wish to bring about any dramatic climax. We all entered, the
Major and Muriel looking about fearsomely as though they momentarily
expected some unseen figure to rise and confront them, weapon in hand.
When they had all got inside, I closed the door and said: "The weapon
that fractured Mr. Ashton's skull has been in plain view to everyone,
ever since the morning his death was discovered. There it is," I
continued, quietly, and pointe