ction with the
discovery of the cap in the grate. Apart from the stimulus to memory the
percussion cap had produced, there was no visible co-ordination between
the two facts, because it was, apparently, quite certain that Mrs.
Heredith had been shot by Nepcote's revolver, and by no other weapon.
But the balance of probabilities in crime are sometimes turned by
apparently irrelevant trifles which assume importance on investigation.
Was it possible that the key of the pistol-case had been deliberately
concealed because the box had something to hide which formed a
connection between the pistols and the presence of the cap in the grate?
That inference could only be tested by an examination of the case of
pistols. The experiment was undoubtedly worth trying. Colwyn left the
room and descended the stairs.

CHAPTER XXVII

The gun-room was dark and silent as a vault. In the deep recesses the
armoured phantoms of dead and gone Herediths seemed to be watching the
intruder with hidden eyes behind the bars of their tilting helmets and
visored salades. The light of Colwyn's electric torch fell on the shell
of a mighty warrior who stood with one steel gauntlet raised as though
in readiness to defend the honour of his house. His initials, "P.H.,"
were engraved on his giant steel breast, and his steel heels flourished
a pair of fearful spurs, with rowels like daggers. Standing by this
giant was a tiny suit of armour, not more than three feet in height,
which might have been worn by a child.

"A strange pair," murmured Colwyn, pausing a moment to glance at them.
As he turned his light in their direction his eye was caught by an
inscription cut in the stone above their heads, and he drew nearer and
read that the large suit had been worn by the former Philip Heredith, "A
True Knight of God." The smaller suit had been made for a dwarf attached
to his house, who had followed his master through the Crusades, and
fought gallantly by his side.

Colwyn turned away and flashed his light along the walls in search of
the case of pistols. His torch glanced over the numerous trophies
adorning the walls, lances, swords, daggers, steel head-pieces,
bascinets, peaked morions--relics of a departed age of chivalry, when
knights quarrelled prettily for ladies, and fighting was fair and open,
before civilization had enriched warfare with the Christian attributes
of gas-shells, liquid fire, and high explosives. Then the light fell on
that which