Dora knew now that the cry she had heard in the night had been no fancy, no dreaming, but a terrible reality; and the striking of the clock immediately afterwards enabled her to fix the exact time when the crime had been committed. However, she was wise enough to say nothing on the point until called upon to do so. But raising, with the aid of Meg, the dead body on to the sofa, she sent the woman across the road to summon Joad. Hardly had she issued the order when the voice of that very person, in surprised tones, was heard in the drawing-room off the study. Considerably astonished at his early arrival, for it was not yet eight o'clock, Dora ran into the next room. At the door she paused in sheer amazement. The glass door at the side of the apartment had no shutters up, and was wide open, while Joad was looking through it, apparently as much taken aback by her appearance as she was by his. "What is it? What is it?" he demanded hastily. "This door ajar--the postern gate open--you here----" "The postern gate open?" cried Dora suddenly. "The assassin must have escaped that way." "Assassin! What do you mean?" stammered the new-comer, turning pale with fright. "Come in at once, Mr. Joad, and I will show you. The sight requires no explanation." Still amazed, Joad heaved his fat body through the door, and followed Dora into the room of death. When he saw what had taken place--the blood on the floor, the dead body on the sofa--his jaw dropped, his skin turned the colour of a dirty yellow, and he stared dumbfounded at the sight. So long did he remain in his semi-trance, that Dora was obliged to shake him by the elbow to bespeak his attention. "You see Mr. Edermont has been murdered. Meg found him like that when she came to clean up the study." "Aye, I did for sure!" cried Meg, her coarse face blanched with dread. "Master did not lock kitchen last night, and I found doors all wide. I came here with broom and dust-pan, and there I saw he with poor head bashed to jelly." Joad approached the sofa and examined the body, then reverently spread his handkerchief over the disfigured face. "My poor friend!" he muttered with emotion. "And you thought that you were safe!" "Does that mean you know who killed him?" asked Dora, making a step forward. "No, I do not know who killed him. Julian was always afraid that he would be murdered by a certain person; but who that person is, or why he should desire Julian's death, I know no more than you do." Dora only believed half of this statement. From what she had seen it would appear that Joad had been completely in the confidence of the dead man, and his denial seemed to be unnecessary. However, she made no comment on the speech, but with sudden suspicion asked Joad how it was he had come to the Red House before his usual time. He guessed what was in her mind, and laughed slyly.