“You were in charge of the prisoner Samarkan?” began Smith harshly.

“Yes, sir,” Morrison replied.

“Were you the first to learn of his death?”

“I was, sir.  I looked through the grille in the door and saw him lying on the floor of the cell.”

“What time was it?”

“Half-past four A.M.”

“What did you do?”

“I went into the cell and then sent for the head warder.”

“You realized at once that Samarkan was dead?”

“At once, yes.”

“Were you surprised?”

Nayland Smith subtly changed the tone of his voice in asking the last question, and it was evident that the veiled significance of the words was not lost upon Morrison.

“Well, sir,” he began, and cleared his throat nervously.

“Yes, or no!” snapped Smith.

Morrison still hesitated, and I saw his underlip twitch.  Nayland Smith, taking two long strides, stood immediately in front of him, glaring grimly into his face.

“This is your chance,” he said emphatically; “I shall not give you another.  You had met Samarkan before?”

Morrison hung his head for a moment, clenching and unclenching his fists; then he looked up swiftly, and the light of a new resolution was in his eyes.

“I’ll take the chance, sir,” he said, speaking with some emotion, “and I hope, sir”—­turning momentarily to Colonel Warrington—­“that you’ll be as lenient as you can; for I didn’t know there was any harm in what I did.”

“Don’t expect any leniency from me!” cried the Colonel.  “If there has been a breach of discipline there will be punishment, rely upon it!”

“I admit the breach of discipline,” pursued the man doggedly; “but I want to say, here and now, that I’ve no more idea than anybody else how the——­”

Smith snapped his fingers irritably.

“The facts—­the facts!” he demanded.  “What you don’t know cannot help us!”

“Well, sir,” said Morrison, clearing his throat again, “when the prisoner, Samarkan, was admitted, and I put him safely into his cell, he told me that he suffered from heart trouble, that he’d had an attack when he was arrested and that he thought he was threatened with another, which might kill him——­”

“One moment,” interrupted Smith, “is this confirmed by the police officer who made the arrest?”

“It is, sir,” replied Colonel Warrington, swinging his chair around and consulting some papers upon his table.  “The prisoner was overcome by faintness when the officer showed him the warrant and asked to be given some cognac from the decanter which stood in his room.  This was administered, and he then entered the cab which the officer had waiting.  He was taken to Bow Street, remanded, and brought here in accordance with some one’s instructions.”

“My instructions” said Smith.  “Go on, Morrison.”

“He told me,” continued Morrison more steadily, “that he suffered from something that sounded to me like apoplexy.”