"Humph!" said Anthony, meditatively; "there is one peculiar circumstance. If Osip is guilty, he would have brought a weapon with him. Why, then, should he take an assegai from the wall? Such a clumsy article, too." "I don't know," answered Clarice, "but I expect we'll learn all that is to be learned, at the inquest. It will take place to-morrow." For the whole of the morning, Inspector Tick was busy making notes and asking questions. He examined Wentworth about the window; Clarice, again, as to the finding of the gold box; Ferdinand about the presence of Osip at the Savoy Hotel; and then, after a word or two with Chalks on the same subject, went off to see Mrs. Dumps. In the midst of all this excitement, Dr. Jerce arrived. He looked much distressed, as he had heard the truth at the station. "My dear Miss Baird," he exclaimed, when he learned all that she knew. "How terrible. My oldest and best friend. Dear, dear!--and just when I had arranged that the matter of Osip should be inquired into." "Have you seen the Scotland Yard authorities?" asked Ackworth, suddenly. "Yes, last night. I handed over the gold box, and explained. They said they would send down a detective to-day, and, on hearing the news at the station, I sent a wire to expedite his arrival. Then we shall get at the truth." "It seems to me that we know the truth," said Clarice, quickly. "Osip killed Uncle Henry, and took advantage of the open window to do so." "Ah!" said Jerce, bitterly, "if my directions had only been attended to, the assassin would not have been able to enter the house. I look upon Wentworth as responsible in some measure for the crime." "Oh, no! no!" expostulated Anthony. "Wentworth did not know that Horran's life was threatened. We ought to have told him all." Jerce shook his head, and still condemned Wentworth. When that doctor appeared out of the death-chamber, where he had been examining the body, he and Jerce had a wordy argument. Jerce blamed Wentworth for not leaving the window closed, as Jerce had left it; and Wentworth complained that Jerce should have told him that the dead man's life was in danger. "Had I known that," said Wentworth, "I should have left the window closed." "According to the etiquette of our profession," said Jerce, stiffly, "my treatment took precedence of yours. I closed the window yesterday before I went, and you should have left it closed." "I believe in fresh air," snapped Wentworth, holding to his point. "And in this disease I believe in warmth for the patient," retorted the more famous doctor. "Do you set your opinion against mine?" "I have my own views about this disease," said Wentworth. "You don't know what it is, sir!" "Neither do you, if it comes to that, Dr. Jerce." "I am just about to find out," said the great man, and stalked from the drawing-room, followed by the humbler member of the profession, who was still bent upon asserting his dignity.