handle and turned it; the door
opened, and the passage lay dark and apparently empty before us.

"You stay here, as we arranged," whispered the colonel. "Give me the
matches, and I'll go in."

James handed him the box of matches, and he crossed the threshold. For a
yard or two we saw him plainly, then his figure grew dim and indistinct.
I heard nothing except my own hard breathing. But in a moment there was
another sound--a muffled exclamation, and a noise of a man stumbling;
a sword, too, clattered on the stones of the passage. We looked at one
another; the noise did not produce any answering stir in the house; then
came the sharp little explosion of a match struck on its box; next we
heard Sapt raising himself, his scabbard scraping along the stones; his
footsteps came towards us, and in a second he appeared at the door.

"What was it?" I whispered.

"I fell," said Sapt.

"Over what?"

"Come and see. James, stay here."

I followed the constable for the distance of eight or ten feet along the
passage.

"Isn't there a lamp anywhere?" I asked.

"We can see enough with a match," he answered. "Here, this is what I
fell over."

Even before the match was struck I saw a dark body lying across the
passage.

"A dead man?" I guessed instantly.

"Why, no," said Sapt, striking a light: "a dead dog, Fritz." An
exclamation of wonder escaped me as I fell on my knees. At the same
instant Sapt muttered, "Ay, there's a lamp," and, stretching up his hand
to a little oil lamp that stood on a bracket, he lit it, took it down,
and held it over the body. It served to give a fair, though unsteady,
light, and enabled us to see what lay in the passage.

"It's Boris, the boar-hound," said I, still in a whisper, although there
was no sign of any listeners.

I knew the dog well; he was the king's favorite, and always accompanied
him when he went hunting. He was obedient to every word of the king's,
but of a rather uncertain temper towards the rest of the world. However,
de mortuis nil nisi bonum; there he lay dead in the passage. Sapt put
his hand on the beast's head. There was a bullet-hole right through his
forehead. I nodded, and in my turn pointed to the dog's right shoulder,
which was shattered by another ball.

"And see here," said the constable. "Have a pull at this."

I looked where his hand now was. In the dog's mouth was a piece of gray
cloth, and on the piece of gray cloth was a horn coat-button. I took
hold of th