she had torn off her marriage
ring and cast it across the room, crying wildly:

"It is finished. He is dead--dead!"

And she sank back again, among the cushions, as though exhausted by
the effort.

What was passing through her brain at that moment I wondered. Why
should a repulsion of the marriage bond seize her so suddenly, and
cause her to tear off the golden fetter under which she had so long
chafed? There was some reason, without a doubt; but at present all was
an enigma--all save one single point.

When I returned to the police to urge them not to disturb Mrs.
Courtenay, I found them assembled in the conservatory discussing an
open window, by which anyone might easily have entered and left. The
mystery of the kitchen door had been cleared up by Short, who admitted
that after the discovery he had unlocked and unbolted it, in order to
go round the outside of the house and see whether anyone was lurking
in the garden.

When I was told this story I remarked that he had displayed some
bravery in acting in such a manner. No man cares to face an assassin
unarmed.

The man looked across at me with a curious apprehensive glance, and
replied:

"I was armed, sir. I took down one of the old Indian daggers from the
hall."

"Where is it now?" inquired the inspector, quickly, for at such a
moment the admission that he had had a knife in his possession was
sufficient to arouse a strong suspicion.

"I hung it up again, sir, before going out to call the doctor," he
replied quite calmly.

"Show me which it was," I said; and he accompanied me out to the hall
and pointed to a long thin knife which formed part of a trophy of
antique Indian weapons.

In an instant I saw that such a knife had undoubtedly inflicted the
wound in the dead man's breast.

"So you armed yourself with this?" I remarked, taking down the knife
with affected carelessness, and examining it.

"Yes, doctor. It was the first thing that came to hand. It's sharp,
for I cut myself once when cleaning it."

I tried its edge, and found it almost as keen as a razor. It was about
ten inches long, and not more than half an inch broad, with a hilt of
carved ivory, yellow with age, and inlaid with fine lines of silver.
Certainly a very dangerous weapon. The sheath was of purple velvet,
very worn and faded.

I walked back to where the detectives were standing, and examined the
blade beneath the light. It was bright, and had apparently been
recently cleaned.