The detective began a careful and thorough examination of the room. There were no signs of a struggle, and another significant fact was revealed; the girl's bed had not been occupied; the tragedy had occurred in the day-time or early in the evening, before the old boatman and his family had retired to bed. The detective returned to the main room and examined the body of the old man. He also made a note of all the surroundings and took possession of several articles that lay scattered about the room. He did more; he sought for evidence as to the identity of the assassin, and found several little articles which he felt certain would aid him in trailing down the guilty man. Vance returned to the girl's chamber and renewed his search, and succeeded in making several discoveries cries which, he hoped, would serve as valuable clews in the future. He was still searching, and deeply intent upon the duty, when he was disturbed by hearing a voice. "Great mercy! what has happened here?" The detective was cool again. He had recovered all his accustomed nerve, and he stepped to the outer room. A man stood in the door-way. It was the stranger, and he, too, held in his hand a masked lantern. The man's eyes were fixed upon the face of the corpse. "What has happened here?" he demanded. "Come in," said the detective. "Whose body is that?" "It is the body of old Tom Pearce." "He was murdered," said the man. "Come in," again commanded the detective. "Did you know this body was here when you left me a few moments ago?" "I did not." In a hoarse voice the stranger asked; "Has the girl been murdered?" "I trust not." "Have you searched for her?" "I have." "And cannot find her?" "No." "What do you know about this tragedy?" "As much as you do." "No doubt at all." "Do you suspect the assassin?" "I do! but come in." "I can stand here." "Come in, you may attract attention of someone passing." "What harm if I do?" "No, harm, but it may prove inconvenient, and may interfere with our efforts to learn the fate of the girl." "One moment; do you know anything concerning this tragedy?" "All I know is that I came to that door as you did, and my eyes fell upon the ghastly sight." "Then you came here did you expect to find the old man alive?" "I did." "And the girl?" "Yes." "Then this is a surprise to you?" "It is." The stranger entered the room, and in a stern voice he demanded. "Young man, who are you?" CHAPTER XXXVIII. Vance did not betray the least trepidation, but said, in a calm voice: "My friend, I was just about to put that same question to you." "My question came first, and I demand an answer." "I don't care what you demand." "I hold you at my mercy." "Do you think so?" "You are not what you seem," said the stranger. "Nor are you," was the quick response. "Who have I claimed to be, sir?" "Renie's father." "And you deny that I am her father?" "I do." "Who am I?" "That is for you to tell." "Who do you think I am?"