"Yes," said Mr Girtle, looking about at overturned chairs, a small table driven out of its place, and a carriage clock swept off and lying on the floor. "Yes, there has been a terrible struggle." He looked at the dead man, and then in the direction of the strong chamber. Artis saw, and said maliciously: "Murder must mean robbery." "Impossible!" said the lawyer. "The door is shut. Stop. Let me see," and stooping, he thrust his hand inside the silken robe the old Indian wore. There was a dead silence as he searched hastily, and then drew out the keys and chain. "All safe," he cried; "see, here are the keys. They slip off and on this spring swivel; the old man always wore them there. The key of that door; the key of the iron chamber; the key of the steel chest. Gentlemen, I shall remove the keys. Mr Capel, they are yours, now. Take them." "No," said Capel quietly. "Keep them, sir. Now, what do you make of this? It seems to me that the murderer must have come in by this door, and encountered Ramo, and, after the terrible struggle, have escaped by the window." "Exactly," said Mr Girtle. "Unless," said Artis, "some one killed this black fellow when trying to rob his master." "Absurd!" cried Capel angrily, as he bent down over the dead man. "Look here," he cried, "whoever it was must have been wounded. This knife is covered with blood." "His own, perhaps," said Artis. "May be so, but I think not. Now, Mr Girtle, what next?" "The police," said the old lawyer huskily. "Preenham, fetch me a little brandy; this terrible scene has made me faint." "Go, sir? Leave you here?" "Yes, go at once," said Mr Girtle, and there seemed to be an unwillingness to leave, as the butler went out and closed the door. "You did not want that brandy," said Artis quickly. "You wanted to get rid of him for a few minutes. I know what you are thinking--that it was that scoundrelly-faced footman." "Yes, you have guessed my thoughts." "And you suspect the butler?" "I do not say that, sir," said the lawyer coldly. "We do not know that there has been any robbery until the plate is examined, but we ought to have sent for a doctor at once." "I'll go," said Capel, and hurrying out of the room, he ran down the stairs, caught his hat from the stand, and hurried from street to street till he saw the familiar red-eyed lamp. Five minutes after he was on his way back in a cab, with a keen-looking, youngish man, to whom he gave an account of the morning's discovery. "Have you given notice to the police?" "No." "If I were you, I should send a messenger straight to Scotland Yard. It will save you from the blundering of some young constable. Humph--too late." For, as they reached the room, there was the familiar helmet of one of the force, the man having found the door left open by Capel and rung.