Hedges was struck with consternation at the call, for it was that of his new master.  He had not bargained for this; supposing that he had gone to his room for the night.  However he might have been foolishly won over to accede to the man’s strange request, it was not to be supposed it would be approved of by Lord Hartledon.  The butler hesitated.  He did not care to betray Pike, neither did he care to leave Pike alone.

“Hedges!” came the call again, louder and quicker.

“Yes, sir—­my lord?” and Hedges squeezed out at the door without opening it much—­which was rather a difficulty, for he was a portly man, with a red, honest sort of face—­leaving Pike and the light inside.  Lord Hartledon—­as we must unfortunately call him now—­was standing in the hall.

“Has Dr. Ashton gone?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Did he leave that address?”

Hedges knew to what his master alluded:  an address that was wanted in connection with certain official proceedings that must now take place.  Hedges replied that Dr. Ashton had not left it with him.

“Then he must have forgotten it.  He said he would write it down in pencil.  Send over to the Rectory the first thing in the morning.  And, Hedges—­”

At this moment a slight noise was heard within the room like the sound of an extinguisher falling; as, in fact, it was.  Lord Hartledon turned towards it.

“Who is there, Hedges?”

“I—­it’s no one in particular, sir—­my lord.”

What with the butler’s bewilderment on the sudden change of masters, and what with his consciousness of the presence of his visitor, he was unusually confused.  Lord Hartledon noticed it.  It instantly occurred to him that one of the ladies, or perhaps one of the women-servants, had been admitted to the room; and he did not consider it a proper sight for any of them.

“Who is it?” he demanded, somewhat peremptorily.

So Hedges had to confess what had taken place, and that he had allowed the man to enter.

“Pike!  Why, what can he want?” exclaimed Lord Hartledon in surprise.  And he turned to the room.

The moment the butler left him alone Mr. Pike’s first proceeding had been to cover his head again with his wide-awake, which he had evidently removed with reluctance, and might have refused to remove at all had it been consistent with policy; his second was to snatch up the candle, bend over the dead face, and examine it minutely both with eye and hand.

“There is a wound, then, and it’s true what they are saying.  I thought it might have been gossip,” he muttered, as he pushed the soft dark hair from the temple.  “Any more suspicious marks?” he resumed, taking a rapid view of the hands and head.  “No; nothing but what he’d be likely to get in the water:  but—­I’ll swear that might have been the blow of a human hand.  ’Twould stun, if it wouldn’t kill; and then, held under the water—­”