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After their laughter at her dramatic disappearance had died down, they sat quietly in the twilight watching the lamps flicker into life across the park, each one busy with her own thoughts., On the morrow the post-mortem examination was to take place, and the inspector of police at Deanminster had left a man in the house to look after the interests of justice. As yet the inspector--no very gifted man at the most--was doubtful of the proper course to pursue. A crime had been committed; the victim was a well-known gentleman; so here, if anywhere, was a chance of his covering himself with glory by discovering the assassin. But Arkel--the inspector in question--had only experience in bucolic crimes of the rick-burning order, or, at the worst, the poker murders of laborers. The subtlety with which this deed had been accomplished baffled him. He could not grasp the idea of the devil-stick, or even take in the mode of the death. If Arkel were to be the avenger of Alymer's death the assassin ran an excellent chance of getting off scot free., That's just what I mean—love boiled down and sugared over is apt to get an explosive flavour, and one had better be careful with that kind if one is timid; which I'm not. As I said, also, I am ready for a little more of life, so I read on without fear. And, to be fair, Alfred had well boiled his own last paragraph. It snapped; and I jumped and gasped. I almost thought I didn't quite like it, and was going to read it over again to see, when I saw a procession coming over from Dr. John's, and I laid the bombshell down on the bench..