with Mr. Melrose." He described briefly the
passage of the murderer through his own room. "Tell the police to have
the main line stations watched without a moment's delay. The man's game
would be to get to one or other of them across country. There'll be no
marks on him--he fired from a distance--but his boots are muddy. About
five foot ten I should think--a weedy kind of fellow. Go and wake Tonson,
and be back as quick as you possibly can. And listen!--on your way to the
stables call the gardener. Send him for the farm men, and tell them to
search the garden, and the woods by the river. They'll find me there. Or
stay--one of them can come here, and remain with Mrs. Dixon, while I'm
gone. Let them bring lanterns--quick!"

In less than fifteen minutes the motor, with Dixon and the new chauffeur,
Tonson, had left the Tower, and was rushing at forty miles an hour along
the Pengarth road.

Meanwhile, Faversham and the farm-labourers were searching the garden,
the hanging woods, and the river banks. Footprints were found all along
the terrace, and it was plain that the murderer had climbed the low
enclosing wall. But beyond, and all in the darkness, nothing could be
traced.

Faversham returned to the house, and began to examine the gallery. The
hiding-place of Melrose's assailant was soon discovered. Behind the
Nattier portrait, and the carved and gilt chair which Melrose had himself
moved from its place in the morning, there were muddy marks on the floor
and the wainscotting, which showed that a man had been crouching there.
The picture, a large and imposing canvas--Marie Leczinska, sitting on
a blue sofa, in a gala dress of rose-pink velvet with trimming of black
fur--had been more than sufficient to conceal him. Then--had he knocked
to attract Melrose's attention, having ascertained from Dixon's short
colloquy at the library door, after Faversham had left the room, that the
master of the Tower was still within?--or had Melrose suddenly come out
into the gallery, perhaps to give some order to Dixon?

Faversham thought the latter more probable. As Melrose appeared, the
murderer had risen hastily from his hiding-place, upsetting the picture
and the chair. Melrose had received a charge of duck shot full in the
breast, with fatal effect. The range was so short that the shot had
scattered but little. A few pellets, however, could be traced in the
wooden frames of the tapestries; and one had broken a majolica dish
standing o