Psyekoff, found the following: Near the wing in which
Klausoff had lived was gathered a dense crowd. The news of the murder
had sped swift as lightning through the neighbourhood, and the
peasantry, thanks to the fact that the day was a holiday, had hurried
together from all the neighbouring villages. There was much commotion
and talk. Here and there, pale, tear-stained faces were seen. The door
of Klausoff's bedroom was found locked. The key was inside.

"It is quite clear that the scoundrels got in by the window!" said
Psyekoff as they examined the door.

They went to the garden, into which the bedroom window opened. The
window looked dark and ominous. It was covered by a faded green curtain.
One corner of the curtain was slightly turned up, which made it possible
to look into the bedroom.

"Did any of you look into the window?" asked the inspector.

"Certainly not, your worship!" answered Ephraim, the gardener, a little
gray-haired old man, who looked like a retired sergeant. "Who's going to
look in, if all their bones are shaking?"

"Ah, Marcus Ivanovitch, Marcus Ivanovitch!" sighed the inspector,
looking at the window, "I told you you would come to a bad end! I told
the dear man, but he wouldn't listen! Dissipation doesn't bring any
good!"

"Thanks to Ephraim," said Psyekoff; "but for him, we would never have
guessed. He was the first to guess that something was wrong. He comes to
me this morning, and says: 'Why is the master so long getting up? He
hasn't left his bedroom for a whole week!' The moment he said that, it
was just as if someone had hit me with an axe. The thought flashed
through my mind, 'We haven't had a sight of him since last Saturday, and
to-day is Sunday'! Seven whole days--not a doubt of it!"

"Ay, poor fellow!" again sighed the inspector. "He was a clever fellow,
finely educated, and kind-hearted at that! And in society, nobody could
touch him! But he was a waster, God rest his soul! I was prepared for
anything since he refused to live with Olga Petrovna. Poor thing, a good
wife, but a sharp tongue! Stephen!" the inspector called to one of his
deputies, "go over to my house this minute, and send Andrew to the
captain to lodge an information with him! Tell him that Marcus
Ivanovitch has been murdered. And run over to the orderly; why should he
sit there, kicking his heels? Let him come here! And go as fast as you
can to the examining magistrate, Nicholas Yermolaiyevitch. Tell him to
come o