The man led me to Marnham’s room, which I had never entered before.  All I could see at first, for the shutters were closed, was that the place seemed large, as bedchambers go in South Africa.  When my eyes grew accustomed to the light, I made out the figure of a man seated in a chair with his head bent forward over a table that was placed at the foot of the bed almost in the centre of the room.  I threw open the shutters and the morning light poured in.  The man was Marnham.  On the table were writing materials, also a brandy bottle with only a dreg of spirit in it.  I looked for the glass and found it by his side on the floor, shattered, not merely broken.

“Drunk,” I said aloud, whereon the servant, who understood me, spoke for the first time, saying in a frightened voice in Dutch—­

“No, Baas, dead, half cold.  I found him so just now.”

I bent down and examined Marnham, also felt his face.  Sure enough, he was dead, for his jaw had fallen; also his flesh was chill, and from him came a horrible smell of brandy.  I thought for a moment, then bade the boy fetch Dr. Rodd and say nothing to any one else, He went, and now for the first time I noticed a large envelope addressed “Allan Quatermain, Esq.” in a somewhat shaky hand.  This I picked up and slipped into my pocket.

Rodd arrived half dressed.

“What’s the matter now?” he growled.

I pointed to Marnham, saying—­

“That is a question for you to answer.

“Oh! drunk again, I suppose,” he said.  Then he did as I had done, bent down and examined him.  A few seconds later he stepped or reeled back, looking as frightened as a man could be, and exclaiming—­

“Dead as a stone, by God!  Dead these three hours or more.”

“Quite so,” I answered, “but what killed him?”

“How should I know?” he asked savagely.  “Do you suspect me of poisoning him?”

“My mind is open,” I replied; “but as you quarrelled so bitterly last night, others might.”

The bolt went home; he saw his danger.

“Probably the old sot died in a fit, or of too much brandy.  How can one know without a post-mortem?  But that mustn’t be made by me.  I’m off to inform the magistrate and get hold of another doctor.  Let the body remain as it is until I return.”

I reflected quickly.  Ought I to let him go or not?  If he had any hand in this business, doubtless he intended to escape.  Well, supposing this were so and he did escapee, that would be a good thing for Heda, and really it was no affair of mine to bring the fellow to justice.  Moreover there was nothing to show that he was guilty; his whole manner seemed to point another way, though of course he might be acting.

“Very well,” I replied, “but return as quickly as possible.”

He stood for a few seconds like a man who is dazed.  It occurred to me that it might have come into his mind with Marnham’s death that he had lost his hold over Heda.  But if so he said nothing of it, but only asked—­