o my safe," he
continued, as he placed his find in the box. "A clue, as you say, and an
important one. That, as you may observe, is no common article; it's a
gentleman's handkerchief--fine cambric. If it had only been the other
part of it, now, there'd probably have been a name on it, or initials
wove into it: there's nothing of that sort, you see, on what's left.
But it's something, and it may lead to a good deal."

He put the cardboard box away in a safe and locked it up; putting the
key in his pocket, he gave Brent an informing glance.

"I've had a word or two with the medical men while I was out there," he
said confidentially. "They say there's no doubt as to how he was killed.
The murderer, they're confident, was standing behind him as he himself
was either writing or looking over the papers on his desk, and suddenly
thrust a knife clean through his shoulders. They say death would be
instantaneous."

"A knife!" muttered Brent.

"Well," continued Hawthwaite, "as regards that, there are all sorts of
knives. It would be a long, thin weapon, said Dr. Wellesley; and Dr.
Barber, he suggested that it was the sort of wound that would be caused
by one of those old-fashioned rapiers. And they did say, both of them,
that it had been used--whatever the weapon was--with great force: gone
clean through."

Peppermore was listening to these gruesome details with all the ardour
of the born news-seeker. But Brent turned away.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked.

"Why, there isn't," replied Hawthwaite. "The fact is, there is nothing
to do outside our work. The doctors are doing theirs, and there'll have
to be an inquest of course. I've sent to notify Mr. Seagrave, the
coroner, already, and I'm having a thorough search made of the Moot
Hall, and making inquiries about his Worship's last movements. There's
nothing more can be done, at present. One of my men has gone round to
tell his landlady. It's a fortunate thing, Mr. Brent," he added with a
knowing look, "that your cousin wasn't a married man! This would have
been a fine thing to have to break to a man's wife and family! About
relations, now, Mr. Brent, you'll know what to do? I know nothing about
his private affairs."

"Yes," answered Brent. "But I'm much more concerned, just now, about his
public affairs. It seems to me--indeed, it's no use trying to disguise
it--that this has arisen out of the fact that as Mayor of Hathelsborough
he was concerning himself in bring