“Did they read it aloud?” asked Stephen.

“No, they did not,” replied Thorndyke.

“Can you prove substitution?” asked Marchmont.

“I haven’t asserted it,” answered Thorndyke, “My position is that the will is a forgery.”

“But it is not,” said Winwood.

“We won’t argue it now,” said Thorndyke.  “I ask you to note the fact that the inscription was upside down.  I also observed on the walls of the chambers some valuable Japanese colour-prints on which were recent damp-spots.  I noted that the sitting-room had a gas-stove and that the kitchen contained practically no stores or remains of food and hardly any traces of even the simplest cooking.  In the bedroom I found a large box that had contained a considerable stock of hard stearine candles, six to the pound, and that was now nearly empty.  I examined the clothing of the deceased.  On the soles of the boots I observed dried mud, which was unlike that on my own and Jervis’s boots, from the gravelly square of the inn.  I noted a crease on each leg of the deceased man’s trousers as if they had been turned up half-way to the knee; and in the waistcoat pocket I found the stump of a ‘Contango’ pencil.  On the floor of the bedroom, I found a portion of an oval glass somewhat like that of a watch or locket, but ground at the edge to a double bevel.  Dr. Jervis and I also found one or two beads and a bugle, all of dark brown glass.”

Here Thorndyke paused, and Marchmont, who had been gazing at him with growing amazement, said nervously: 

“Er—­yes.  Very interesting.  These observations of yours—­er—­are—­”

“Are all the observations that I made at New Inn.”

The two lawyers looked at one another and Stephen Blackmore stared fixedly at a spot on the hearth-rug.  Then Mr. Winwood’s face contorted itself into a sour, lopsided smile.

“You might have observed a good many other things, sir,” said he, “if you had looked.  If you had examined the doors, you would have noted that they had hinges and were covered with paint; and, if you had looked up the chimney you might have noted that it was black inside.”

“Now, now, Winwood,” protested Marchmont in an agony of uneasiness as to what his partner might say next, “I must really beg you—­er—­to refrain from—­what Mr. Winwood means, Dr. Thorndyke, is that—­er—­we do not quite perceive the relevancy of these—­ah—­observations of yours.”

“Probably not,” said Thorndyke, “but you will perceive their relevancy later.  For the present, I will ask you to note the facts and bear them in mind, so that you may be able to follow the argument when we come to that.

“The next set of data I acquired on the same evening, when Dr. Jervis gave me a detailed account of a very strange adventure that befell him.  I need not burden you with all the details, but I will give you the substance of his story.”