He found Mr. Mainwaring looking pale and fatigued.

“I will detain you but a moment, Mr. Scott,” he said, speaking wearily; “I have a few instructions I would like you to carry out early in the morning; and I also want to say that I wish you to consider yourself as one of my guests to-morrow, and join with us in the festivities of the occasion.”

Scott thanked his employer courteously, though there might have been detected a shade of reserve in his manner, and, after receiving brief directions for the following day, withdrew.

He went to his room, but not to sleep.  His mind was too full of the events of the day just passed, as well as of the expected events of the morrow.  His thoughts reverted to his discovery of the afternoon, and, taking the shabby document from his pocket, he read and re-read it carefully, his features betraying deep emotion.  What should be done with it?  Should he let his employer know at once of the proof which he now held against him?  Or should he hold it for a few days and await developments?

It was nearly three o’clock when he was aroused from his abstraction by a slight sound, as of stealthy footsteps in the rear of the house.  He listened intently for a moment, but hearing nothing further and discovering the lateness of the hour, he hastily extinguished the light and, too exhausted and weary to undress, threw himself as he was upon a couch and was soon sleeping heavily.

The sun was shining brightly into his room, when Harry Scott was awakened the next morning by a woman’s scream, followed by cries and sobs and a confused sound of running to and fro.  Almost before he could collect his thoughts, he heard steps approaching his room, and, rising, hastily exchanged the smoking-jacket in which he had slept for a coat.  He had barely time to make the change when there was a loud knock, and some one called his name in quick, sharp tones.

Opening the door, he saw Mr. Whitney standing before him, while in the background servants were running in different directions, wringing their bands and moaning and crying hysterically.

“Mr. Scott,” said the attorney, in tones trembling with excitement, “come to the tower-room at once.  Mr. Mainwaring has been murdered!”

“Mr. Mainwaring murdered!” he exclaimed, reeling for an instant as if from a blow.  “Great heavens! it cannot be possible!”

“It is terrible, but a fact, nevertheless,” replied Mr. Whitney; “he was murdered last night in his private rooms.”

“How and when was it discovered?” Scott inquired, his mind still dazed by the wild torrent of thought surging through his brain as he recalled the events of the previous night.

“Hardy, his valet, was the first to discover it this morning.  We have telephoned for his physician and for the coroner; they will be out on the next train from the city.”

Harry Scott shuddered as he entered the familiar room where he had taken leave of his employer but comparatively few hours before.  Even amid the confusion, he noted that in the outer room everything appeared the same as when he last saw it, but the portieres at the farther side, pushed widely open, revealed a ghastly sight.