r since," said
he. "It will be harder to read now than that palimpsest. Well, well, it
can't be helped. What did you do, Hopkins, after you had made certain
that you had made certain of nothing?"

"I think I made certain of a good deal, Mr. Holmes. I knew that someone
had entered the house cautiously from without. I next examined the
corridor. It is lined with cocoanut matting and had taken no
impression of any kind. This brought me into the study itself. It is a
scantily-furnished room. The main article is a large writing-table with
a fixed bureau. This bureau consists of a double column of drawers
with a central small cupboard between them. The drawers were open, the
cupboard locked. The drawers, it seems, were always open, and nothing
of value was kept in them. There were some papers of importance in the
cupboard, but there were no signs that this had been tampered with, and
the Professor assures me that nothing was missing. It is certain that no
robbery has been committed.

"I come now to the body of the young man. It was found near the bureau,
and just to the left of it, as marked upon that chart. The stab was
on the right side of the neck and from behind forwards, so that it is
almost impossible that it could have been self-inflicted."

"Unless he fell upon the knife," said Holmes.

"Exactly. The idea crossed my mind. But we found the knife some feet
away from the body, so that seems impossible. Then, of course, there are
the man's own dying words. And, finally, there was this very important
piece of evidence which was found clasped in the dead man's right hand."

From his pocket Stanley Hopkins drew a small paper packet. He unfolded
it and disclosed a golden pince-nez, with two broken ends of black
silk cord dangling from the end of it. "Willoughby Smith had excellent
sight," he added. "There can be no question that this was snatched from
the face or the person of the assassin."

Sherlock Holmes took the glasses into his hand and examined them with
the utmost attention and interest. He held them on his nose, endeavoured
to read through them, went to the window and stared up the street with
them, looked at them most minutely in the full light of the lamp, and
finally, with a chuckle, seated himself at the table and wrote a few
lines upon a sheet of paper, which he tossed across to Stanley Hopkins.

"That's the best I can do for you," said he. "It may prove to be of some
use."

The astonished detective rea