bed figure,
standing as though carved in marble, its arms extended, its head
thrown back.

"That fellow is certainly an artist," Godfrey muttered, as he led the
way back to the house.

CHAPTER XIX

THE YOGI CONQUERS

The events of the day that followed--Sunday--I shall pass over as
briefly as may be. It was for me a day of disappointment, culminating
in despair, and, looking back at it, I remember it as a grey day,
windy, and with gusts of rain.

Dr. Hinman stopped for us, and Godfrey and I accompanied him to the
service over the body of the murdered man. We were the only outsiders
there, besides the undertaker and his assistants, and they were not
admitted to the ceremony. This was witnessed only by Miss Vaughan,
Mahbub and us three. The servants were not there, and neither were
Miss Vaughan's nurses.

I have never seen a more impressive figure than Silva made that
morning. His robes were dead black, and in contrast to them and to his
hair and beard, his face looked white as marble. But, after the first
moments, the ceremony failed to interest me; for Silva spoke a
language which I supposed to be Hindustani, and there was a monotony
about it and about his gestures which ended in getting on my nerves.
It lasted half an hour, and the moment it was over, Miss Vaughan
slipped away. The yogi and Mahbub followed her, and then we three
stepped forward for a last look at the body.

It was robed all in white. The undertaker had managed to compose the
features, and the high stock concealed the ugly marks upon the neck.
So there was nothing to tell of the manner of his death, and there was
a certain majesty about him as he lay with hands crossed and eyes
closed.

We left the room in silence, and Hinman signed to the undertaker that
the service was ended.

"I am going with the body to the crematory," he said, and presently
drove away with the undertaker, ahead of the hearse. Godfrey and I
stood gazing after it until it passed from sight, then, in silence, we
walked down the drive to the entrance. The gardener was standing
there, and regarded us with eyes which seemed to me distinctly
unfriendly. He made no sign of recognition, and, the moment we were
outside, he closed the gates and locked them carefully, as though
obeying precise instructions.

"So," said Godfrey, in a low tone, as we went on together, "the lock
has been repaired. I wonder who ordered that done?"

"Miss Vaughan, no doubt," I answered. "Sh