e found himself outside, in a corner of the
churchyard. A thicket of heavy bushes grown up over neglected graves
completely hid the opening through which he had come. There were thorns
on these bushes and also a few scattered roses, dark yellow roses.

Muller walked thoughtfully through the churchyard. The sexton sat
huddled in an unhappy heap at the gate. He looked up in alarm as he saw
the detective walking towards him. Something in the stranger's face told
the little hunchback that he had made a discovery. The sexton sprang up,
his lips did not dare utter the question that his eyes asked.

"I have found him," said the detective gravely.

The hunchback sexton staggered, then recovered himself, and hurried away
to fetch the magistrate and the doctor.

An hour later the murdered pastor lay in state in the chief apartment
of his home, surrounded by burning candles and high-heaped masses of
flowers. But he still lay in the simple convent coffin and the little
bunch of roses which his murderer had placed between his stiffening
fingers had not been touched.

Two days later the pastor was buried. The Count and his family led the
train of numerous mourners and among the last was Muller.

A day or two after the funeral the detective sauntered slowly through
the main street of the village. He was not in a very good humour, his
answer to the greeting of those who passed him was short. The children
avoided him, for with the keenness of their kind they recognised the
fact that this usually gentle little man was not in possession of his
habitual calm temper. One group of boys, playing with a top, did not
notice his coming and Muller stopped behind them to look on. Suddenly
a sharp whistle was heard and the boys looked up from their play,
surprised at seeing the stranger behind them. His eyes were gleaming,
and his cheeks were flushed, and a few bars of a merry tune came in
a keen whistle from his lips as he watched the spirals made by the
spinning top.

Before the boys could stop their play the detective had left the group
and hastened onward to the little shop. He left it again in eager haste
after having made his purchase, and hurried back to the rectory. The
shop-keeper stood in the doorway looking in surprise at this grown man
who came to buy a top. And at home in the rectory the old housekeeper
listened in equal surprise to the humming noise over her head. She
thought at first it might be a bee that had got in somehow.