.

Of course my examination has at present only been superficial, but that appears to be the case."

      The landlord proffered an addition of his own:

      "It looks as if the blow had been delivered with a champagne bottle." He held up the broken neck. "We found this on the table, and the remaining pieces are here upon the floor."

      The inspector again addressed the doctor.

      "Could it have been done with a champagne bottle?"

      The doctor settled his spectacles on his nose. Being a young man, a sense of responsibility seemed to weigh upon him. His reply was guarded:

      "It might. Of course you understand that I am not prepared to give a definite opinion, but, to some extent, my present impression is, that it might have been."

      The inspector turned to the landlord.

      "Don't you know who was in the room with him?"

      "That's the point-we don't; that's to say, not so that we can speak with certainty. You see, this is a private sitting-room, and occupants of private sitting-rooms have visitors of whom we know nothing. We can't keep an eye upon them as if they were public rooms-it stands to reason. But one of my waiters, named Timmins-this is Timmins-informs me that he brought a message and a note to Mr Emmett, who was enjoying his wine after dinner, to the effect that a gentleman wished to see him; and that he went out to see the gentleman; but whether the gentleman returned with him Timmins cannot say."

      The inspector addressed the waiter.

      "When you brought that message was he alone?"

      "Yes, sir, he was alone; except for the young lady."

      The landlord exclaimed.

      "Young lady! – What young lady?"

      "Why, sir, the young lady he dined with; he and she dined together."

      "This is the first time you've mentioned a young lady."

      "Well, sir, he and the young lady had dinner together-dinner was ordered for two. I thought you knew that."

      "I knew nothing about it-this is the first I've heard about it; this is the first time I've heard about any young lady. Did you know about it?" This last question was put to his wife. "I knew a lady came with him; he took two bedrooms, one for himself and one for her; his was No. 238, hers was No. 49, on the floor above. He wanted her next to him, they tell me in the office; but the rooms on either side of his were engaged."

      "What was the lady's name?"

      "That I don't know; I find he entered himself in the book as 'George Emmett and Lady.' When I asked Miss Wilson, who was there when he came, why she let him do it, she said that she asked him what was the lady's name; and he said it was all right and didn't matter."

      "Did you see her?"

      "No; I can't say that I did. I'm told she's quite young. She seems to have brought precious little luggage. There's only a small battered old tin box in her room."

      "I can only say that this is the first mention I've heard of any young lady; I'd no idea that anyone came with him. I can't understand, Timmins, why you didn't speak of her before."

      "Well, sir, I thought you knew."

      "Don't I tell you I didn't know? What do you mean by persisting in thinking I knew? I understood you to say that when you brought the message he was alone."

      "So he was, sir-except for the young lady."

      "Except for the young lady! What the devil do you mean by 'except for the young lady'? He wasn't alone if she was there-was he?"

      The inspector interposed.

      "That's all right, Mr Elsey; you leave this to me-this is more in my line than yours." He tackled the waiter, whose expression, as they worried him, became more and more rabbitlike. "You say that Mr Emmett and this young lady dined together?"

      "Yes, sir, they did-I waited on them."

      "Did she strike you as being young? How old would you have set her down as?"

      "Well, sir, not more than seventeen or eighteen, at the outside-though perhaps she might have been a little more or less-it's not easy to tell a young lady's age."

      "Did she strike you as being a lady? You know what I mean."

      "Yes, sir, I do. Well, sir, I daresay-I should say, sir, she was quite a lady; most certainly a lady; though plainly dressed; in fact, for a lady, almost shabby."

      "Did she and Mr Emmett appear to be upon good terms?"

      "Well, sir, I couldn't exactly say that they did."

      "What do you mean by that? On what sort of terms were they? Explain yourself, man."

      "Well, sir-for one thing she never uttered so much as a single word while I was in the room, neither to me nor to Mr Emmett; not even so much as yes or no when I handed her a dish. And she scarcely ate anything; and she never drank anything neither. Mr Emmett told me to fill her glass with champagne; but I don't believe she ever so much as put her lips to it-in fact, when I came in and found him there was her glass just as it was when I filled it. Mr Emmett, he did all the talking. From the way in which she sat right back in her chair-that's the chair in which she sat, sir-and never spoke or moved, it seemed as if she were frightened half out of her life of him."

      "Why should she be frightened? Did you hear him say anything to frighten her?"

      "No, sir, nothing I could swear to; but he kept speaking to her in a chaffing sort of way, which I could see she didn't like."

      "Did she seem to be angry? – in a bad temper?"

      "No, sir, not so much that as afraid of him."

      "When he went out to see this gentleman, did he leave her behind?"

      "Yes, sir, he did, on that chair; and I couldn't help noticing how queer she looked-so white that I couldn't help wondering if she was feeling ill."

      "Was she here when you found him?"

      "No, sir; the room was empty."

      "Did anyone see her go out of the room? – did you?"

      "No, sir; I haven't seen her since I saw her sitting in that chair."

      "Then where is she now? Where is she, Mr Elsey?"

      "I've no more idea than you have, Mr Tinney. As I've already tried to explain, till a moment or two ago I hadn't the faintest notion that there was a lady in the case."

      "Mrs Elsey, where is this interesting young lady?"

      Dorothy, behind the blind and the curtain, could scarcely refrain from shrieking: "Here!"

      Mrs Elsey shook her head.

      "That's more than I can tell you, Mr Tinney. Beyond knowing that a young lady came with Mr Emmett, I don't know anything. What Timmins has been telling you is all news to me."

      "Someone must know where she is, if she's in the house. I don't want to make any statement, but it seems to me that she's a most important witness, and the sooner she's produced the better. If, as Mr Timmins hints, she was feeling ill, she may have retired to her room. Perhaps, Mrs Elsey, you won't mind making inquiries. If she isn't in her room, wherever she is, she must be found, so don't let there be any mistake about it. I must have an interview with this very interesting young lady before we are either of us very much older-you understand?"

      "No, Mr Tinney, I can't say I do understand; not as you put it. I will have inquiries made; in fact, I'll make them myself; but as for finding her, wherever she is, that's another question altogether, and one for which I decline to be held responsible. Things are coming to a pretty pass if I'm to be held responsible for the comings and goings of anyone who chooses to take a room in my house."

      The lady sailed out of the room, with her head in the air. The inspector looked at her husband.

      "I'm afraid I've trodden on Mrs Elsey's toes."

      "She's very sensitive, Mrs Elsey is-very sensitive. I'm far from saying that you mean anything; but, as you must see for yourself, she has enough to bear already, without having