Two hours later, just as I was getting up from a dinner to which, in my perturbed condition, I had done small justice, I heard a ring at the bell, and presently Mrs. Hargis entered to tell me that there was a gentleman asking for me.  I went out to meet him, and was astonished to find that it was Simmonds.

“I don’t wonder you’re surprised,” he said, as we sat down.  “Fact is, I’m surprised myself, for I don’t know exactly what I’m to do out here.  But Swain, after he got back to his cell, was like a crazy man; he was sure something dreadful was going to happen to Miss Vaughan if she stayed in the house with those Hindus.  In the end, he got me kind of scared, too, and made me promise to come out and help you keep watch.  I went down to the Record office and had a talk with Godfrey before I started.  I half expected him to laugh at me; but he seemed to think I’d better come.  The fact is,” concluded Simmonds, shifting his cigar to the other side of his mouth, “he was so serious about it, that I brought two men along.  One of them’s patrolling the road in front of the house, and the other the road along the side.  I’ve arranged for two others to relieve them at midnight.  Now, what’s it all about, anyway?”

“Well,” I said, “in the first place, neither Godfrey nor I believes that Swain strangled that man.”

“I can’t hardly believe it myself,” agreed Simmonds, “for he seems a nice young feller; but it’s a clear case:  there’s the motive, he was on the ground, and there’s the finger-prints.  How can you explain them away?”

“I can’t explain them away.  But, just the same, Godfrey believes the murder was committed by one of those Hindus.”

“He intimated something of the sort to me,” said Simmonds; “but there’s no evidence against them.”

“No,” I conceded; “that’s what we’ve got to find.”

“Where are we going to look for it?”

“There’s only one place to look for it, and that’s in the house where the murder was committed.  I only wish we could get Miss Vaughan out of it—­that would give us a freer hand.”

“What’s the matter with the fool girl, anyway?” demanded Simmonds.  “I should think she’d jump at a chance to get away.”

“So should I—­but she isn’t reasonable, just now.  I can’t make her out.  Perhaps she’ll come round in a day or two, but meanwhile, if she should happen to need help, I don’t see how your men out on the road, on the other side of a twelve-foot wall, could do any good.”

Simmonds rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“What would you suggest?” he asked, at last.

“Why not put them in the grounds, as soon as it is dark, and let them conceal themselves near the house?  They can get over the wall on this side.  We’ve got ladders.  Besides,” I added, “it would be a great mistake to give Silva any reason to suspect he’s being watched.  He’d see the men out on the road, sooner or later; but they could keep out of sight among the shrubbery.”