"I am sure he would do his best, sir. He lives only six doors away, in a red house. Maybe you wouldn't mind stepping down the street and speaking to him?" "You are sure he would not think it a liberty?" "Not he, sir; he'll be only too pleased to exchange a word with some one outside this sleepy little place." "Then I'll call on him," I answered, and taking up my hat I strolled down the street. I was lucky in finding Dr. Stanmore at home, and the moment I saw his face I determined to take him into my confidence. "The fact is this," I said, when he had shaken hands with me, "I should not dream of taking this liberty did I not feel certain that you could help me." "And in what way?" he asked, not stiffly, but with a keen, inquiring, interested glance. "I have been sent down from London to inquire into the Wentworth mystery," I said. "Is that so?" he said, with a start. Then he continued gravely: "I fear you have come on a wild-goose chase. There was nothing discovered at the autopsy to account for the death. There were no marks on the body, and all the organs were healthy. I met Wentworth often while he was staying here, and he was as hearty and strong-looking a young man as I have ever come across." "But the Castle Inn has a bad reputation," I said. "That is true; the people here are afraid of it. It is said to be haunted. But really, sir, you and I need not trouble ourselves about stupid reports of that sort. Old Bindloss, the landlord, has lived there for years, and there has never been anything proved against him." "Is he alone?" "No; his wife and a grandchild live there also." "A grandchild?" I said. "Did not this girl give some startling evidence at the inquest?" "Nothing of any consequence," replied Dr. Stanmore; "she only repeated what Bindloss had already said himself--that the house was haunted, and that she had asked Wentworth not to sleep in the room." "Has anything ever been done to explain the reason why this room is said to be haunted?" I continued. "Not that I know of. Rats are probably at the bottom of it." "But have not there been other deaths in the house?" "That is true." "How many?" "Well, I have myself attended no less than three similar inquests." "And what was the verdict of the jury?" "In each case the verdict was death from syncope." "Which means, cause unknown," I said, jumping impatiently to my feet. "I wonder, Dr. Stanmore, that you are satisfied to leave the matter in such a state." "And, pray, what can I do?" he inquired. "I am asked to examine a body. I find all the organs in perfect health; I cannot trace the least appearance of violence, nor can I detect poison. What other evidence can I honestly give?" "I can only say that I should not be satisfied," I replied. "I now wish to add that I have come down from London determined to solve this mystery. I shall myself put up at the Castle Inn." "Well?" said Dr. Stanmore. "And sleep in the haunted room."