tly the result of drink, to see Mr.
Basket, who occupied a reserved seat in the house; further, that
falling in with two sailors, who bought a ticket for him, the man had
mounted the gallery stairs in their company, and this was the last
seen of him by either of the deponents.

The Doctor posted to Plymouth, carrying with him the only extant
portrait of the Major--a miniature taken at the age of twenty-five;
called on Mr. Basket, haled him off to the Chief Constable's office,
and there by appointment examined the two witnesses. The men stuck
to their story, but swore positively that the fellow they had seen
bore no resemblance to the portrait.

"If you ask _me_," added the doorkeeper with conviction, "he was a
dam sight more likely to have been his murderer. He looked it,
anyhow."

The Doctor and Mr. Basket returned to the latter's house in deeper
perplexity than ever.

"The evidence," began Mr. Basket, lighting his pipe after dinner,
"vague as it is, points more decidedly than before to foul play.
We have been assuming that our poor friend, whether by accident or
design, found himself in my fish-pond."

"He would hardly have walked into it on purpose," said the Doctor.

"It is at least highly improbable. Well, here we have another man
who comes running to the theatre wet through--also, we will assume,
from an immersion in the fish-pond. We will suppose that he plunged
into it to the rescue and having brought his burden safe to shore,
ran to the theatre to inform me of the accident. At once we are
confronted with half a dozen serious difficulties. To begin with,
why, having asked for me, did he disappear?"

"Press-gang," the Doctor suggested.

"Granted. But why, having an urgent message to deliver, did he
proceed to take a ticket for the gallery in company with two sailors,
apparently strangers to him? Again, this explanation does not even
touch the crucial question, which is--How came our friend to
disappear?"

The Doctor shook his head.

"On the other hand," Mr. Basket continued, "if we take the darker
view, that this man had entered the fish-pond not for purposes of
rescue, but--dreadful thought--to hold the victim under water, why
should he have exposed himself to detection by coming to the theatre?
Why, in fine, should he desire to communicate at all with me?"

"Perhaps," suggested Mrs. Basket, who had been listening while she
knitted, "his conscience pricked him."

"My dear Maria!" began h