Thalassa nodded.  His brown face remained expressionless, but his little dark eyes glittered warily, like a snake’s.

“Think again, Thalassa,” urged Barrant, in a voice of the softest insistence.  “It may be that you have forgotten something—­overlooked an incident which may be important.”

“I’ve overlooked nothing,” was the sullen response.

“There’s just an odd chance that you have,” said Barrant, searching the other’s face from raised contemplative eyebrows.  “The best of memories plays tricks at times.  It’s always better not to be too sure.  Think again, Thalassa, if you haven’t something more to tell me.”

“I’ve told you everything,” Thalassa commenced, then straightened his long bony frame in a sudden access of anger, and brought his hand sharply down on the table.  “What are you trying to badger me for, like this?  You’ll get nothing more out of me if you question me till Doomsday.”

“But why should you keep anything back?” asked Barrant softly.

Thalassa looked at him with a startled air, then recovered himself quickly.  “I’m not keeping anything back,” he said.  “Why should you say that?”

“I did not say it.  You said I’d get no more out of you.”

“Because there is nothing more to be got.  Is that plain enough?”

“Quite.  Well then, let us go over the events of this night once more.  Perhaps that will help you to recall something which you have forgotten.”

“That’s not likely.”

“Nevertheless, we will try.  You were busy in the coal cellar at the time,
I think you said?”

“At what time?” said Thalassa with a quick glance.

“At the time the crash happened upstairs.”

“Yes.”

“What time was that?”

“How should I know?  Do you suppose there’s a clock in the coal cellar?  It must have been about half-past nine.”

“According to the clock upstairs.  Did you think I had overlooked that?  Then you heard your wife call, and went to the kitchen.  Next, you went upstairs, tried your master’s door, found it locked, and decided to go for assistance.  But before you could do so Mr. and Mrs. Pendleton and Dr. Ravenshaw arrived.  Have I got it right?”

“That be right.”

“All except one thing, Thalassa.”

Thalassa met Barrant’s look steadily, with no sense of guilt in his face.  “Well?” he said.

“I see that you do not intend to be frank.  Let me help your memory a little.  Did you have no other visitors—­before Mr. and Mrs. Pendleton and Dr. Ravenshaw arrived?”

“Visitors?” There was scorn now in his straight glance, but nothing more.  “Is this a place where there’s likely to be visitors?”

“Not in the ordinary course of events”—­Barrant was still smilingly affable—­“but the night your master met his death was not an ordinary night.  Somebody may have come to the house.”

He paused, again searching for some sign of guilty consciousness in the face revealed in such clear outline near him, but saw none.  Again, Thalassa met him with answering look, but remained mute.