“‘There was only one,’ I said.

“At this the officers bustled away and I heard them descending to the basement.  The charwoman came in and looked gloatingly at my battered countenance, which bore memorials of every projecting corner of the room.

“‘It’s a pity you come down, sir,’ said she.  ’You might have been murdered same as what your poor lady was.  It’s better to let them sort of people alone.  That’s what I say.  Let ’em alone and they’ll go home, as the sayin’ is.’

“There was considerable truth in these observations, especially the last.  I acknowledged it vaguely, while the woman cast fascinated glances round the disordered room.  Then two of the officers returned and took up the enquiry to an accompaniment of distant police whistles from the back of the house.

“‘I needn’t ask if you saw the man,’ said the plain-clothes officer, with a faint grin.

“‘No, you’re right,’ said the sergeant.  ’He set upon you properly, sir.  Seems to have been a lively party.’  He glanced round the room and added:  ‘Fired a pistol, too, your housekeeper tells me.’

“I nodded at the shattered mirror but made no comment, and the officer, remarking that I ‘seemed a bit shaken up,’ proceeded with his investigations.  I watched the two men listlessly.  I was not much interested in them.  I was thinking of the man on the other side of the museum door and wondering if he had ringed hair.

“Presently the plain-clothes officer made a discovery.  ‘Hallo,’ said he, ‘here’s a carpet bag.’  He drew it out from under the table and hoisted it up under the gaslight to examine it; and then he burst into a loud and cheerful laugh.

“‘What’s up?’ said the sergeant.

“‘Why, it’s Jimmy Archer’s bag.’

“‘No!’

“’Fact.  He showed it to me himself.  It was given to him by the
‘Discharged Prisoners’ Aid Society’ to carry his tools in.  Ha!  Ha!  O
Lord!’

“The sergeant examined the bag with an appreciative grin, which broadened as his colleague lifted out a brace, a pad of bits, a folding jimmy and a few other trifles.  I made a mental note of the burglar’s name, and then my interest languished again.  The two officers looked over the room together, tried the museum door and noted that it had not been tampered with; turned over the plate and admonished me on the folly of leaving it so accessible; and finally departed with the promise to bring a detective-inspector in the morning, and meanwhile to leave a constable to guard the house.

“I would gladly have dispensed with that constable, especially as he settled himself in the dining-room and seemed disposed to converse, which I was not.  His presence shut me off from the museum.  I could not open the door, for the burglar was lying just inside.  It was extremely annoying.  I wanted to make sure that the man was really dead, and, especially, I wanted to examine his hair and to compare his finger-prints with the set that I had in the museum.  However, it could not be helped.  Eventually I took my candle-lamp from the sideboard and went up to bed, leaving the constable seated in the easy-chair with a box of cigars, a decanter of whiskey and a siphon of Apollinaris at his elbow.