“This is incredible, incredible!” exclaimed the Count.

“It is, indeed, sir,” said the man, leading the magnate through the dining-room into the pastor’s study, where, as far as could be seen, the murder had been committed.  They were joined by the district judge, who had remained behind to give an order sending a carriage to the nearest railway station.  The judge, too, was serious and deeply shocked, for he also had greatly admired and revered the old pastor.  The stately rectory had been the scene of many a jovial gathering when the lord of the manor had made it a centre for a day’s hunting with his friends.  The bearers of some of the proudest names in all Hungary had gathered in the high-arched rooms to laugh with the venerable pastor and to sample the excellent wines in his cellar.  These wines, which the gentlemen themselves would send in as presents to the master of the rectory, would be carefully preserved for their own enjoyment.  Not a landed proprietor for many leagues around but knew and loved the old pastor, who had now so strangely disappeared under such terrifying circumstances.

“Well, we might as well begin our examination,” remarked the Count.  “Although if Dr. Orszay’s sharp eyes did not find anything, I doubt very much if we will.  You have asked the doctor to come here again, haven’t you?”

“Yes, your Grace!  As soon as I saw you coming I sent the sexton to the asylum.”  Then the men went in again into the room which had been the scene of the mysterious crime.  The wind rattled the open window and blew out its white curtains.  It was already dark in the corners of the room, one could see but indistinctly the carvings of the wainscoting.  The light backs of the books, or the gold letters on the darker bindings, made spots of brightness in the gloom.  The hideous pool of blood in the centre of the floor was still plainly to be seen.

“Judging by the loss of blood, death must have come quickly.”

“There was no struggle, evidently, for everything in the room was in perfect order when we entered it.”

“There is not even a chair misplaced.  His Bible is there on the desk, he may have been preparing for to-day’s sermon.”

“Yes, that is the case; because see, here are some notes in his handwriting.”

The Count and Judge von Kormendy spoke these sentences at intervals as they made their examination of the room.  The local magistrate was able to answer one or two simpler questions, but for the most part he could only shrug his shoulders in helplessness.  Nothing had been seen or heard that was at all unusual during the night in the rectory.  When the old housekeeper was called up she could say nothing more than this.  Indeed, it was almost impossible for the old woman to say anything, her voice choked with sobs at every second word.  None of the household force had noticed anything unusual, or could remember anything at all that would throw light on this mystery.