erturned and the receiver was on the
floor. By its side were two books, one being the "Balkan Question,"
by Villari, and the other "Travels and Politics in the Near East," by
Miller. With them was a long, ivory paper-knife.

There was nothing else on the bedside-table save a silver cigarette
box. T. X. drew on a pair of gloves and examined the bright surface for
finger-prints, but a superficial view revealed no such clue.

"Open the window," said T. X., "the heat here is intolerable. Be very
careful, Mansus. By the way, is the window fastened?"

"Very well fastened," said the superintendent after a careful scrutiny.

He pushed back the fastenings, lifted the window and as he did, a harsh
bell rang in the basement.

"That is the burglar alarm, I suppose," said T. X.; "go down and stop
that bell."

He addressed Fisher, who stood with a troubled face at the door. When
he had disappeared T. X. gave a significant glance to one of the waiting
officers and the man sauntered after the valet.

Fisher stopped the bell and came back to the hall and stood before the
hall fire, a very troubled man. Near the fire was a big, oaken writing
table and on this there lay a small envelope which he did not remember
having seen before, though it might have been there for some time, for
he had spent a greater portion of the evening in the kitchen with the
cook.

He picked up the envelope, and, with a start, recognised that it was
addressed to himself. He opened it and took out a card. There were only
a few words written upon it, but they were sufficient to banish all the
colour from his face and set his hands shaking. He took the envelope and
card and flung them into the fire.

It so happened that, at that moment, Mansus had called from upstairs,
and the officer, who had been told off to keep the valet under
observation, ran up in answer to the summons. For a moment Fisher
hesitated, then hatless and coatless as he was, he crept to the door,
opened it, leaving it ajar behind him and darting down the steps, ran
like a hare from the house.

The doctor, who came a little later, was cautious as to the hour of
death.

"If you got your telephone message at 10.25, as you say, that was
probably the hour he was killed," he said. "I could not tell within half
an hour. Obviously the man who killed him gripped his throat with his
left hand--there are the bruises on his neck--and stabbed him with the
right."

It was at this time that the di