“I suspected it at first. Now I know it. I will tell you how. A girl, one of the servants of the place, just stopped me to say that, at an early hour this morning--so far as I can judge, within five minutes of the commission of the murder--she saw you running along the corridor, from Lawrence’s room towards your own, as if you were flying for your life. My own impression is that you were flying from the life which you had taken.” “Hume! Some one saw me in the corridor! Who was it?” “At this moment, never mind. The woman will be produced in due course. She says that the perspiration was pouring down your cheeks; which seems odd, considering that the morning was chilly, that you are not of a plethoric habit, and that you were clad only in your pyjamas.” It was with difficulty that I retained my self-control. Was it possible that it had not been a vision after all, but that I had been the actual spectator of that awful tragedy? As I was endeavouring to arrange in my mind the new aspect of the case suggested by Hume’s words, the door opened and a man came in. “Is one of you two gentlemen Mr. Ferguson?” “I am.” “Then you’re the gentleman they’ve sent me to as being Mr. Edwin’s friend. The Lord forgive me, but I believe that my poor master’s murdered him!” CHAPTER VII. THE SUSPICIONS OF MR. MORLEY The newcomer was a man apparently about sixty years of age, short, and grey-haired, with old-fashioned, neatly-trimmed side whiskers. He was dressed entirely in black, even to black kid gloves; his hat he carried in his hand. He seemed to be in a state of considerable agitation, and stood looking from one to the other of us as if he was endeavouring to make up his mind as to who or what we were. Hume recognized him at once. He went striding towards him from across the room. “Morley, you had better come with me. It is to me you wish to speak, not to this gentleman.” I interposed. “He asked for Mr. Ferguson. I am Mr. Ferguson. It therefore seems that it is to me that he wishes to speak.” “Don’t talk nonsense! You’re a stranger to him; I tell you it’s a mistake. You know me, Morley, don’t you?” The old gentleman looked at Hume with eyes which seemed half dazed. “Yes, sir; oh yes. You’re Dr. Hume. I know you very well.” “You hear? Stand aside!” “I shall not stand aside. And, Hume, take my strong advice and don’t attempt to interfere with any visitor of mine. You hear me?” “I hear, but I shall not pay the least attention. Morley, I forbid you to say a word in this gentleman’s presence. You have no right to speak of your master’s private affairs in the presence of strangers. I am his friend; I will safeguard his interests. I tell you that by not keeping a strict watch over your tongue you may do him a serious mischief.”