Simmonds and the assistant district attorney came toward us, and I arose to meet them.  Swain got up, also, and when I glanced at him I saw that he was smiling.

“I don’t know whether you have met Mr. Blake, Mr. Lester,” said Simmonds, and the prosecutor and I shook hands.  I introduced him to Swain, but Swain did not offer his hand.

“I suppose you’ve come to take me along?” he said, the smile still on his lips.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to.”

“Would bail be considered?” I asked.

“I’m afraid not,” and Blake shook his head.  “It isn’t a bailable offence.”

I knew, of course, that he was right and that it was of no use to argue or protest.  Swain turned to me and held out his hand.

“Then I’ll say good-bye, Mr. Lester,” he said.  “I’ll hope to see you Monday.”

“You shall,” I promised.

“And with good news,” he added.

“Yes—­and with good news.”

“Can we give you a lift?” Blake asked.

“No,” I said, “thank you; but I’m staying out here for the present.”

I watched them as they climbed into a car—­Goldberger, Blake, Simmonds and Swain; I saw the latter take one last look at the house; then he waved to me, as the car turned into the highroad—­at least, he was taking it bravely!  The coroner’s assistants climbed into a second car, and the four or five policemen into a third.  Then the reporters and photographers piled into the others, the few stragglers who had straggled in straggled on again, and in five minutes the place was deserted.  As I looked around, I was surprised to see that even Godfrey had departed.  There was something depressing about the jumble of chairs and tables, the litter of paper on the grass—­something sordid, as of a banquet-hall deserted by the diners.

I turned away and started for the gate; and then, suddenly, I wondered who was in charge of the house.  Who would give orders to clear away this litter?  Who would arrange for the funeral on the morrow?  How could Miss Vaughan do it, ill as she was?  With quick resolution, I turned back toward the house.  As I did so, I was surprised to see a man appear at the edge of the lawn and run toward me.  It was Hinman.

“I was afraid I’d missed you,” he said.  “Miss Vaughan wishes to see you.  She’s all alone here and needs some help.”

“I’d thought of that,” I said.  “I was just coming to offer it.  Is she better?”

“Yes, much better.  I think she has realised the necessity of conquering her nerves.  Of course, we must still be careful.”

I nodded, and followed him into the house.  Then I stopped in astonishment, for Miss Vaughan was sitting in a chair in the library.  She rose as I entered, came a step toward me and held out her hand.

“You must not think too badly of me, Mr. Lester,” she said.  “I won’t give way again, I promise you.”

“You have had a great deal to bear,” I protested, taking her hand in mine.  “I think you have been very brave.  I only hope that I can be of some service to you.”