The room into which we looked was not more than ten feet square, and empty of furniture, except for a mat in the middle of the floor and three or four baskets set against the wall.  On the mat was squatted the attendant, his legs crossed with feet uppermost, and his hands held palm to palm before him.  On the floor in front of him were what looked to me like a strip of cloth, a bone and a tooth.  He did not raise his eyes at our entrance, but sat calmly contemplating these relics.

Goldberger’s moustache lost a few more hairs as he stood staring down at this strange figure.

“What are those things?  His grandmother’s remains?” he asked, at last.

“Those are the attributes of Kali,” said the adept gravely, as one rebuking blasphemy.

“Very interesting, no doubt,” commented the coroner drily.  “Would it disturb the gentleman too much to ask him a few questions?”

“He speaks no English, but I shall be glad to translate for you.”

The coroner thought this over for a moment, and then shook his head.

“No,” he said; “I’ll wait for the court interpreter.  You might tell him, though, that there will be officers of the law on duty below, and that he is not to leave the house.”

“I will caution him,” answered the adept, and let the curtain fall, as we passed out.

“I suppose there are some other servants somewhere about the place?” asked Goldberger.

“There are three—­they sleep on the floor above.”

“Are they Hindus, too?”

“Oh, no,” and the adept smiled.  “Two of them are German and the other is Irish.”

The coroner reddened a little, for the words somehow conveyed a subtle rebuke.

“That is all for to-day,” he said; “unless Mr. Simmonds has some questions?” and he looked at his companion.

But Simmonds, to whom all these inquiries had plainly been successive steps into the darkness, shook his head.

“Then we will bid you good-morning,” added Goldberger, still a little on his dignity.  “And many thanks for your courtesy.”

The adept responded with a low bow and with a smile decidedly ironical.  I, at least, felt that we had got the worst of the encounter.

Goldberger, without a word, led the way up the stair that mounted to the attic story, and there soon succeeded in routing out the three servants.  The Germans proved to be a man and wife, well past middle age, the former the gardener and the latter the cook.  Erin was represented by a red-haired girl who was the housemaid.  All of them were horrified when told their master had been murdered, but none of them could shed any light on the tragedy.  They had all been in bed long before midnight, and had not been disturbed by any of the noises of the night.