"I asked His Honour, Mr. Dee Boe Hun, to bring you all in," he said, as though they were a school, "so's ye might see how things like this are _done_. It's the end of what's been troubling you all; what's been biting you! Oh! I know your distress," he added kindly, fixing Galton with his eye first, then the Professor. "But first and to start with, I 'ave a confession to make, I 'ave. Ye thought me His Majesty's representative in Bogotar, just returned." He smiled genially. "Ar! ye thought that, and nat'rally enough. Well, now, I'm free to tell ye the truth. An' in _my_ trade," he went on, crossing his arms boldly, "that's not too often, Gawd helping us! Now 'oo am I? I'm from the Yard. In plain English, I'm what they call a detective. Now don't start!" he added, releasing his left hand and holding it up. Nor had any of them started, least of all Aunt Amelia, who had not clearly heard the last words. "There's no 'arm done, there's none o' you to blame. There's none o' you suspect. You'll none o' you have the darbies on," he added, with kindly jocularity. "Oo's done it?" "I'm sure, I'm sure, I'm sure ..." began the Professor with ready tongue. "You'll excuse _me_, Professor," said Mr. Collop with dignity, "but I must continue. Ah! 'oo's done it, I arsk? The question we 'ave all on us been asking. And now"--with mysterious dignity--"ye shall see. If any of ye is for wrapping up before ye go out of doors say so. It's only a little turn." No one was for wrapping up before going out of doors. They were getting intrigued. "Foller me," said Mr. Collop after the fashion of the great leaders of mankind. He threw open the window towards the avenue and heavily straddled himself out. The Professor's long legs followed; young Lord Galton, a good deal bored, with his hands in his pockets, took it at a stride; Marjorie's short skirts negotiated it; McTaggart tried to jump it, hit his head on the sash, rubbed it, and then more sensibly walked across. As for Vic, she put a bony hand upon the sill and vaulted lightly over. Poor Aunt Amelia stood looking after them in vain, like the women of Ithaca when first the king sailed away to the gathering of the chiefs and of whom it is written: "This is the hall where all the women spinning Sang of the Kings who sailed away to Troy." She could not vault; she could not even stride. Lastly, the Home Secretary himself hooked a lean shank over and stood with the shivering group. Outside they all came on to the swept gravel of the avenue, with its row of bare trees and its border of broad snow on either side. Mr. Collop with a gesture still more majestic than any he had yet assumed, pointed with iron hand and arm at the light snow which covered the grass upon the right. There, sure enough, was the mark of a bird's claw. And side by side with it, the other triple mark of the bird's other claw.