"Precisely; his rooms are on the top floor of the house at that very corner. Well, this workman behaved in a suspicious manner, and then disappeared. But he returned in about half an hour, and let himself into the Inn again by the iron gate." "Wait a minute," said Gale. "You said a workman. What was a workman doing in the Inn at that time of night? And with a key which unlocked that gate?" "These are puzzles, are they not?" "You have certainly given me something to think over. Have you anything more to tell me about this workman?" "No; our informant did not see him again." Gilbert now resumed the thread of his narrative, telling the inspector all that took place when he and his father went to Silwood's chambers. The inspector, as Gilbert proceeded, compared his statement with the report made by the policeman who had been summoned by the porter. "What you tell me," said Gale, when Gilbert had finished, "bears out exactly what my subordinate has set forth. The coroner has been sent for, and we must wait till we hear from him. I shall accompany him when he makes his examination of the body, and I expect a message from him every minute." "Will you let me go with you?" asked Gilbert. "You must remember that I am engaged to Mr. Thornton's daughter, and so am, therefore, in a measure her representative." "I have not forgotten that, and I do not know that there is any objection. If you will tell me where I can find you, I'll let you know. I must send you away just now, for I wish to be alone to think--and there is a great deal to think of." "Very well. I'll stay in the waiting-room outside," and Gilbert left the inspector to his thoughts. CHAPTER XV "As strange a case as any I ever heard of," said Inspector Gale to himself, after Gilbert had withdrawn. "Now, what do I know about it exactly? Let me see." Gale was a shrewd man, with an abundance of sound common sense and an extensive experience in criminal matters. He also had a certain degree of imagination, which is the quality the ordinary detective lacks. From a cabinet he took some sheets of blue paper which were fastened together; they were the memoranda he had made of the facts connected with the disappearance of Morris Thornton. Gale read them over rapidly but carefully. Putting them down on his desk, he reflected. "Morris Thornton, a rich colonial," he thought, "came to London on July 29th, and put up at the Law Courts Hotel in Holborn. Late in the evening of the next day, July 30th, he left the hotel for a walk in Holborn or perhaps in Chancery Lane--so he said to the porter. To-day, August 14th, his body is found in a room at the top of a house in Stone Buildings, Lincoln's Inn, that is, on the Chancery Lane side of the Inn. That looks as if he had carried out his intention of taking a stroll in Chancery Lane. This fits in well enough. What next?