Even as he spoke Shepworth opened his eyes, and stared vaguely at those in the room. His gaze wandered in a bewildered manner from the Inspector to Prelice, and from Prelice to the two doctors. Finally, he looked meditatively at the dead body, which was stretched right across the blue cloth of the dining-table, with its glassy eyes staring at the ceiling. A shudder shook the barrister's frame, and as though moved by wires, he sprang stiffly to his feet. "Prelice! Prelice!" he cried, and his voice grew stronger as his strength came back, as did his colour and senses. "Look! Look! Isn't it the same as in the Grange library! Agstone is dead, and I have been in a trance." "You know then?" asked Bruge swiftly, "that the dead man is Agstone?" "Yes! I have seen him many times, at the Grange. But how did he come here? Who murdered him?" And his eyes questioned those present dumbly. "That is what we wish to ask you," said the Inspector. Shepworth passed his hand across his forehead, which was now moist with perspiration. "The police," he murmured, "and Agstone dead. Will you place me in the dock beside Mona?" he asked Bruge passionately. Prelice sprang to his side, and caught him by the hand. "Ned, Ned!" he urged, "pull yourself together and tell us how Agstone came to be murdered in this room." "I can't tell you," cried Shepworth, wrenching away his hand. "I can tell you no more than Mona could. She was in a trance, and saw nothing, only coming out of it to find the dead beside her. I was in a trance, and saw---- Ah!" he broke off, and his wild eyes went roving round the room, "where is the woman?" "What woman?" asked Bruge suddenly, and kept his eyes on Shepworth's face with a look of severe scrutiny. "The woman who came in, masked and cloaked. She came in. Agstone admitted her. She waved the bronze cup before me, and then I--I---- Oh! what does it all mean?" he asked, breaking down, and with every reason, considering what he had undergone. Prelice shook him gently by the shoulders. "I am beside you, Ned. I am looking after you. Only tell us everything you remember." Shepworth stared straight before him, and then, as though a spring had been touched, he began to speak swiftly and coherently. "I was sitting reading in the drawing-room, when I heard three heavy blows struck on the wall of this room. As my servants were all upstairs, assisting at the ball, I wondered who was in my flat, and came out to inquire. The door of this room was closed, and I opened it to find a thick white smoke, smelling sweetly and sickly, curling from a bronze cup placed on the table. The fumes choked me, and I staggered instinctively to open the window. Before I could reach it, I fell." "Senseless?" interpolated Thornton keenly. "No!" Shepworth turned irritably. "How could I be senseless when I heard and saw everything?--up to a point, that is." "What did you see?" questioned Bruge eagerly.