"I found a table with writing materials near the bed," said Kind, "and several sheets of paper had been used, as some were torn up. Sir Simon had been making calculations. I know that, because some of the torn pieces had figures on them. Sir Simon evidently was trying to calculate how much or how little he could give his blackmailing friend. The man, however, saw the gold, and at once made for it. Sir Simon woke, and would have made an outcry. But the stranger seeing him awake does not give him time to cry out, but cuts his throat at once." "How could the stranger see in the dark?" asked Browne, sarcastically. "You forget," said Kind gravely, "that the candle was on the dressing-table. Sir Simon left it there, lighted, to shine through the red handkerchief, else what was the use of the handkerchief at all?" "Yes, yes, I see that," said Herries, eagerly, "go on." "The deed being done, the stranger waits in the room until daybreak, and then, knowing how Sir Simon was to leave the inn, put on the dead man's fur coat and boldly walked out with his plunder." "Why didn't he escape again by the window?" "Ah, that is one of the things which I wish to find out." "And what about the incrimination of Herries?" asked the doctor, sceptically. "Do you smoke cigarettes?" asked the Cheap-jack, turning suddenly on Herries. "Yes,--sometimes." "Did you smoke one at the inn?" "No. I haven't had a cigarette in my lips for quite three months. I hadn't the money to buy them, and so took to a pipe. Why?" "Then the man who murdered Sir Simon entered the room--your room--to incriminate you. After emptying the pocket-book, he took that and the razor into your room. You were sound asleep, worn out, as I was told by Elspeth----" "That's quite true, and old Gowrie gave me a glass of toddy to make me sleep the sounder." "Oh," said Kind in a peculiar tone, and considered; after a time he went on, but did not say why he had made the exclamation. "Well, then, the murderer smeared your shirt sleeve, and left the razor on the bed, and the pocket-book under it. Then he retired to the death-room and waited till dawn. When ready to go, he locked the door of the room in which the dead man lay, and put the key in your room." "But how do you know that he was in my room at all?" asked Herries, somewhat annoyed by all this theory. Kind asked another question. "Did Sir Simon smoke?" "No," said Browne, "he never smoked in his life." "In that case," Kind fished out the stump of a cigarette, "what do you make of that? I found it in your room, Mr. Herries." The young man took the cigarette, which was burnt down half way, and examined it carefully. Then he smelt it. "Periquette tobacco?" said he thoughtfully, "comes from France,--from Algiers,--from----"