Both of them started to their feet. Just inside the room was a burly policeman, flashing a quite unnecessary lantern. They stared at him aghast as he advanced upon them. “’Eard a scream comin’ from ’ere, not above two minutes back,” went on the policeman sternly, “an’ then a shot. Or sounded like a shot, it did. So I thought as ’ow——” He caught sight of the corpse on the floor, which had hitherto been partially hidden by an arm-chair, and broke off abruptly. His bulging eyes contemplated it with incredulity. The girl was the first to recover herself. Clapping her hand to her mouth, she turned hastily about and her shoulders heaved as if under great emotion; the next moment she faced the guardian of the law, her face still working painfully. “We didn’t do it, constable!” she cried wildly. “We found it here. We heard the shot too, and came in like you. We didn’t do it!” The constable took no notice of this dramatic cry. His eyes were still fastened on the sprawling corpse, upon whose white shirt-front the large red stain showed up with ominous distinctness. He continued to contemplate it. Mr. Priestley, fastened once more to the ground, contemplated it also. In his paralysed brain one thought only found place—“murder will out!” In his more intelligent moments Mr. Priestley might have noted with interest that the more dramatic the situation became, the more he had recourse to platitudes to express his feelings; as it was, he could not even have told you what a platitude was. “Is ’e—is ’e _dead_?” asked the constable in awed tones. “I’m afraid he is,” replied the girl more soberly. With an effort the constable’s eyes disengaged themselves from the body and roved slowly over the room. They fell on the revolver which Mr. Priestley in his agitation had dropped. With an exclamation of pleasure the constable picked it up. “This ’ere’s the weapon,” he remarked acutely. The corpse took advantage of his and Mr. Priestley’s preoccupation with the revolver to direct an expressive glance towards the girl, uneasy and interrogative. The glance said, as plainly as glances may, “What the blazes are we to do now?” The girl contorted her pretty features into a prodigious wink. The wink said, as clearly as a wink can: “You just lie doggo and leave it all to me. This is an unexpected development, I admit, but advantage may yet be derived from it. Take your cue from me and go on emulating a door-nail.” The corpse did so. “Well, I’ll be blowed!” observed the policeman, continuing to stare at the revolver. A gleam illuminated his stolid face. “Murder!” he exclaimed. “Murder —that’s what it is! And this ’ere’s the weapon that did it.” He looked with sudden suspicion on the guilty couple. “Now then,” he said in an official voice. “What’ve you two got to say, I’d like to know? And I warn you that anything you say will be taken down and used in evidence against you.” He scowled upon them darkly.