“Well, if you call a clock striking a noise, then it was one.”

“Oh, a clock struck!” and Thong settled back in his chair more at his ease.  His manner seemed to indicate that he was on the track of something.

“Yes, a clock struck.  It was either three or four, I can’t be sure which,” Darcy replied.  “You know when you awaken in the night, and hear the strokes, you can’t be sure you haven’t missed some of the first ones.  I heard three, anyhow, I’m sure of that.”

“Well, put it down as three,” suggested Thong.  “Was it the striking of the clock that awakened you?”

“No, not exactly.  It was more as if some one had been in my room.”

“Some one in your room!” exclaimed both detectives.  They were questioning Darcy in the living-room of Mrs. Darcy’s suite, the clerks being detained downstairs by Mulligan.  The county physician, who was also the coroner, had not yet arrived.

“Yes, at first I thought some one had been in my room, and then, after I thought about it, I wasn’t quite sure.  All I know is I slept quite soundly—­sounder than usual in fact, and, all at once, I heard a clock strike.”

“Three or four,” murmured Thong.

“Yes; three anyhow—­maybe four.  Something awakened me suddenly; but what, I can’t say.  I remember, at the time, it felt as though something had passed over my face.”

“Like a hand?” suggested Carroll.

“Well, I couldn’t be sure.  It may have been I dreamed it.”

“But what did it feel like?” insisted Thong.

“Well, like a cloth brushing my face more than like a hand—­or it may have been a hand with a glove on it.  Yes, it may have been that.  Then I tried to arouse myself, but I heard the wind blowing and a sprinkle of rain, and, as my window was open, I thought the curtain might have blown across my face.  That would account for it I reasoned, so—­”

“Yes, it may have been the curtain,” said Thong, slowly.  “But what did you do?”

“Nothing.  I lay still a little while, and then I went to sleep again.  I was only awake maybe two or three minutes.”

“You didn’t call Mrs. Darcy?”

“No.”

“Nor the servant—­what’s her name?  Sallie?”

“No.  There wasn’t any use in that.  She’s deaf.”

“And you didn’t call the janitor?”

“No.  I wasn’t very wide awake, and I didn’t really attach any importance to it until after I saw her—­dead.”

“Um!  Yes,” murmured Carroll.  “Well, then you went to sleep again.  What did you do next?”

“I awakened with a sudden start just before six o’clock.  I had not set an alarm, though I wanted to get up early to do a little repair job I had promised for early this morning.  But I have gotten so in the habit of rousing at almost any hour I mentally set for myself the night before, that I don’t need an alarm clock.  I had fixed my mind on the fact that I wanted to get up at five-thirty, and I think it was just a quarter to six when I got up.  I was anxious to finish the repair job for a man who was to leave on an early train this morning.  He may be in any time now, and I haven’t it ready for him.”