Kelson took the departing visitor out into the hall to see him off.

“You’ll see it all in the papers to-morrow, I expect,” he said in a confidential tone, “so there is no harm in telling you there has been a most gruesome discovery in that locked room.  A man who was here at the Hunt Ball, has been found dead; suicide no doubt.  The police are here now.”

“Good heavens!  A mercy the ladies did not see it.”

“Yes; they’ll have to know sooner or later.  The later the better.”

“Yes, indeed.  Any idea of the cause of the sad business?”

“None, as yet.  A complete mystery.”

“Probably a woman in it.”

“Not unlikely.  Good-bye.”

As Kelson turned from the door, Morriston and another man appeared at the farther end of the hall and called to him.

“You know Dr. Page,” he said as Kelson joined them.

“A terrible business this, doctor,” Kelson observed as they shook hands.

The medico drew in a breath.  “And at first sight in the highest degree mysterious,” he said gravely.

“Dr. Page,” said Morriston, “has made a cursory examination of the body.  The autopsy will take place elsewhere.  The police are making notes of everything important, and after dark will remove the body quietly by the tower door.  So I hope the ladies will know nothing of the tragedy just yet.”

As they were speaking a footman had opened the hall-door and now approached with a card on a salver.  “Can you see this gentleman, sir?” he said.

Morriston took the card, and as he glanced at it an expression of pain crossed his face.  He handed it silently to Kelson, who gave it back with a grave nod.  It was the card of “Mr. Gervase Henshaw, II Stone Court, Temple, E.G.”

CHAPTER VII

THE INCREDULITY OF GERVASE HENSHAW

“Show Mr. Henshaw into the library,” Morriston said to the footman.  “This is horribly tragic,” he added in a low tone to Kelson, “but it has to be gone through, and perhaps the sooner the better.  His brother?”

“Yes; he mentioned him on our way from the station the other evening.  At any rate he will be able to see the situation for himself.”

“You will come with me?” Morriston suggested.  “You might fetch your friend, Gifford.”

Kelson nodded, opened the drawing-room door and called Gifford out, while Morriston waited in the hall.

“The brother has turned up,” he said as the two men joined him.  “No doubt to make inquiries.  What are we to say to him?”

“There is nothing to be said but the bare, inevitable truth,” Gifford answered.  “You can’t now break it to him by degrees.”