He picked up from the floor what looked like a lacquered Oriental club; there was something gleaming on the end of it. "Could it have been that I heard?" "Who can say?" "Was he like that when you came in?" "He was lying a little more over on his face; I turned him over to see if there were any signs of life left in him." "You are sure--that no one else--was in the room?" For some reason there was a perceptible interval before he answered; they looked at each other, as if each were reading something which was in the other's eyes; then his glance dropped, and he said: "There was no one else in the room when I came in." Somehow she felt that his words conveyed much more than was on the surface; neither spoke; it was as if each were occupied with thoughts which would not be denied. All at once the stillness was broken in a manner which was sufficiently startling; what sounded like the report of a firearm rang through the silent room. The major sprang to his feet. Her face was turned in the direction from which the sound had come. "What was that?" she asked. "That was a revolver--someone fired a revolver." "Where?" "I should say in the next room; it was certainly very close." He started to move towards the adjoining apartment. She stopped him. "Where are you going?" He turned to her. "I'm going to see who fired that shot." "Let me come with you; don't leave me here--with him. If you let me lean upon your arm, I can get along quite well." He stood eyeing her, as if in doubt what was the right thing for him to do. His tone was stern, perhaps unconsciously so. "You know you ought not to be here; this is no place for you--you ought to be in bed." "I know, but what's the use of talking like that? You're not going to leave me here--alone? You shall take me with you. Give me your arm; I don't believe I can move without it, or I would; give me your arm." He did as she asked, crossing the open space in which Mr. Noel Draycott lay to do it. Not only did he give her his arm, he put it round her, so that she was supported rather by his shoulder. Together they made what haste they could. This was a suite of rooms opening one into the other; they passed into the next. It was in darkness. "I fancy the switches are against the wall by the door here." The surmise was correct, he switched the light on. When he had done so, they were conscious of two things; one was an open window, the other was the smell of powder. "It was in here that the shot was fired." "But by whom? The room is empty; who fired it? And why?" "Whoever fired it may have gone through the open window. Sit down on that chair; I must look into this." He withdrew the support of his arm, but she did not sit down on the chair, she leaned on the back of it; perhaps she feared that if she sat she would not be able to rise unaided. He advanced towards the open window, then gave an exclamation, stooping as he did so.