"Oh, he's all right," said Heyton. "I mean, the doctor thinks he'll pull

round. Here, don't make more fuss than is necessary, Smith; keep the

house quiet and tell the servants to keep their mouths shut."

Smith looked at him with surprise; for Heyton's manner was scarcely that

of a son whose father had nearly been done to death. The Inspector was

in the hall and Heyton signed to him to follow into the library.

"This is dreadful news, my lord," said the Inspector.

"Rather!" assented Heyton. He was very pale, and his hair was dank with

sweat, and his tongue moved over his lips thickly, with a restless,

feverish movement. "Here, we'd better have a drink before we begin. I'm

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terribly upset. Only natural, eh, Inspector?--Own father, you

know?--Bring in some soda and whisky," he ordered the footman who

answered the bell.

"Not for me, my lord, thank you," said the Inspector, respectfully.

Heyton poured out half a glassful of whisky, made a pretence of adding

soda, and swallowed the spirit.

"Absolutely upset," he said, wiping his lips on his handkerchief. "But

there! I half expected it. I was telling my father only last night--or

was it the night before?--about those damned gipsies on the common. I

warned him; yes, I warned him."

"Gipsies, my lord?" said the Inspector. "You suspect them?"

"Who else am I to suspect?" demanded Heyton, with a sideway glance of

his bloodshot eyes.

"That remains to be seen, my lord," said the Inspector quietly; "for

myself, I don't think the gipsies have had any hand in this. I should

like you to tell me everything you know about the affair, please, my

lord."

"Certainly, Inspector," responded Heyton, promptly. "But, you see, I

know precious little; in fact, I don't know anything. My man came

bursting into my room this morning, and told me they'd found my

father--well, as you know, lying in his dressing-room, badly knocked

about; and, of course, I went straight to his room, and--that's all I

know about it."

"Quite so, my lord. I should like to see the room at once."

"Come on, then," said Heyton. He was quite calm, and was quite proud of

being so calm. The Inspector might look at the room as long as he liked;

it wouldn't tell him anything of the truth.

They went up to the dressing-room, and the Inspector walked straight to

the safe and began to look, not at its contents, but along the edge of

the door. He nodded with a kind of satisfaction, and said: "I've wired for a detective; he's more at home at this kind of case than

I am."




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