Half an hour passed--affairs suggestive of the tragedy of the night went on in the Herapath Estate Office. Two women in the garb of professional nurses came quietly, and passed into the room where Herapath lay dead. A man arrayed in dismal black came after them, summoned by the police who were busy at the telephone as soon as Selwood had finished with it. Selwood himself, having summoned Kitteridge and Mountain, hung about, waiting. He heard the police talking in undertones of clues and theories, and of a coroner's inquest, and the like; now and then he looked curiously at Mr. Tertius, who had taken a seat in the hall and was apparently wrapped in meditation. And still Barthorpe Herapath remained closeted with Peggie Wynne. A taxi drove up and deposited the butler and the coachman at the door. Selwood motioned them inside. "Mr. Barthorpe Herapath wants both of you," he said curtly. "I suppose he will ask for you presently." Kitteridge let out an anxious inquiry. "The master, sir?" he exclaimed. "Is----" "Good heavens!" muttered Selwood. "I--of course, you don't know. Mr. Herapath is dead." The two servants started and stared at each other. Before either could speak Barthorpe Herapath suddenly emerged from the waiting-room and looked round the hall. He beckoned to the inspector, who was talking in low tones with the detective, at a little distance. "Now, inspector," he said, "will you and your officer come in? And the caretaker--and you, Kitteridge, and you, Mountain. Mr. Selwood, will you come in, too?" He stood at the door while those he had invited inside passed into the room where Peggie still sat. And as he stood there, and Selwood wound up the little procession, Mr. Tertius rose and also made as if to join the others. Barthorpe stopped him by intruding himself between him and the door. "This is a private inquiry of my own, Mr. Tertius," he said, with a meaning look. Selwood, turning in sheer surprise at this announcement, so pointed and so unmistakable, saw a faint tinge of colour mount to the elder man's usually pale cheeks. Mr. Tertius stopped sharply and looked at Barthorpe in genuine surprise. "You do not wish me to enter--to be present?" he faltered. "Frankly, I don't," said Barthorpe, with aggressive plainness. "There will be a public inquiry--I can't stop you from attending that." Mr. Tertius drew back. He stood for a moment staring hard at Barthorpe; then, with a slight, scarcely perceivable bow, he turned away, crossed the hall, and went out of the front door. And Barthorpe Herapath laughed--a low, sneering laugh--and following the other men into the waiting-room, locked the door upon those assembled there. As if he and they were assembled on some cut-and-dried business matter, he waved them all to chairs, and himself dropped into one at the head of the table, close to that in which Peggie was sitting.