Paredes glanced at Bobby.

“And how was this new mystery discovered?”

Bobby caught the implication.  Then the Panamanian clung to his slyly expressed doubt of Katherine which might, after all, have had its impulse in an instinct of self-preservation.  Bobby knew that Graham and Katherine would guard the fashion in which the startling discovery had been made.  Before he could speak for himself, indeed, Graham was answering Paredes: 

“This crying seemed after a time to come from the room.  We entered.”

“But Miss Katherine called you up,” Paredes said.  “I supposed she had heard again movements in the room.”

Bobby managed a smile.

“You see, Carlos, nothing is consistent in this case.”

Paredes bowed gravely.

“It is very curious a woman should cry about the house.”

“The servants may make it seem natural enough,” Graham said.  “Will you come, Bobby?”

As they crossed the dining room they heard a stirring in the kitchen.  Graham threw open the door.  Jenkins stood at the foot of the servants’ stairs.  The old butler had lighted a candle and placed it on the mantel.  The disorder of his clothing suggested the haste with which he had left his bed and come downstairs.  His wrinkled, sunken face had aged perceptibly.  He advanced with an expression of obvious relief.

“I was just coming to find you, Mr. Robert.”

“What’s up?” Bobby asked.  “A little while ago I thought you were all asleep back here.”

“One of the women awakened him,” Graham said.  “It’s just as I thought.”

“Was that it?” the old butler asked with a quick relief.  But immediately he shook his head.  “It couldn’t have been that, Mr. Graham, for I stopped at Ella’s and Jane’s doors, and there was no sound.  They seemed to be asleep.  And it wasn’t like that.”

“You mean,” Bobby said, “that you heard a woman crying?”

Jenkins nodded.  “It woke me up.”

“If you didn’t think it was one of the maids,” Graham asked, “what did you make of it?”

“I thought it came from outside.  I thought it was a woman prowling around the house.  Then I said to myself, why should a woman prowl around the Cedars?  And it was too unearthly, sir, and I remembered the way Mr. Silas was murdered, and the awful thing that happened to his body this afternoon, and I—­you won’t think me foolish, sirs?—­I doubted if it was a human voice I had heard.”

“No,” Graham said dryly, “we won’t think you foolish.”

“So I thought I’d better wake you up and tell you.”

Graham turned to Bobby.

“Katherine and you and I,” he said, “fancied the crying was in the room with us.  Jenkins is sure it came from outside the house.  That is significant.”

“Wherever it came from,” Bobby said softly, “it was like some one mourning for Howells.”

Jenkins started.

“The policeman!”