Entering the house by a back door opening into an alley at the side of the residence, he was unobserved by any one except the servants. Janet soon told him the circumstances of her mistress’s death. How at eleven o’clock she had given her a composing pill, the only one in the box. These pills had been ordered by Dr. Stanforth, who had seen the patient the previous day. How, an hour after, no sleep having supervened, she had given a little brandy and water, and a few mushrooms, which had been sent in by Mr. Crowe from the fruiterer’s. How, soon after partaking of this food, her poor mistress had been seized with faintness and vertigo, had become suddenly pale and pulseless. That she had immediately called her master, who was in his study, and by his orders had sent the page to Dr. Stanforth, who was not at home. That meanwhile Mrs. Crowe had got rapidly worse, had vomited several times, and died with convulsions in great agony. How she had adroitly managed to drop her handkerchief on her mistress’s pillow, and so contrived to provide her lover with the materials for an analysis. How, moreover, she had reserved in another handkerchief the remains of the dish which formed the patient’s last meal. One thing that excited the girl’s curiosity was the fact that on the previous night she was certain there were two pills in the little box on the mantel; whereas, although none had been taken during the night, only one remained when, by her master’s order, she gave the morning dose. Had the box been upset? Had the parlour maid, who arranged the room in the morning and made the fire, disturbed the box? She declared she had not touched it when Mr. Mole examined her, and he believed the girl. The death certificate was filled up by Dr. Stanforth as follows: Atrophic cirrhosis two years two months. Gastritis one year three months. Hæmatemesis four days. This certificate was duly delivered to the registrar; and two others like it were forwarded to the assurance companies in each of which the life was insured for the sum of one thousand pounds. Mr. Mole went away with his little parcel, and soon set to work in his own private room on his tests. From his observations on some mice, to which he gave an ethereal extract of the contents of the handkerchiefs, he was quite sure that muscarin or lorchelin had somehow found its way into the stomach of the deceased lady. But here was the difficulty. She had undoubtedly eaten of a dish of mushrooms previous to her death. Somehow or other a poisonous fungus might have got into that dish, by accident possibly, by intention more likely. Again, there was the mysterious incident of the pill. What was easier than to substitute a pill of bulbosin for one of the morphia pills which should have been given. Was it not strange that only one pill remained in a box which should have contained two if it had not been interfered with?