Wondering who he was, Jervis noted that he looked a truculent kind of buccaneer, and rose to confront him, thereby revealing the body on the hearthrug. The newcomer at the door uttered a startled ejaculation, scarcely scriptural, and strode forward in quite a masterful way. He looked at the dead man aghast, then turned towards the policeman with an indignant expression, as if he suspected him of being the culprit. "What does this mean?" demanded the buccaneer, fiercely, and pointed to the corpse with a silver-headed cane which he held in his hand. "Sir Hector Wyke has been stabbed, as you see, sir," said Jervis, curtly. "Good heavens!" cried the stranger. "My poor friend." "Was Sir Hector your friend, sir?" The gentleman nodded. "I came here to see him, and hoped that he would give me a bed for the night. Dead. Stabbed! Who killed him?" "The other gent as come," chimed in Mrs. Vence, promptly; "and a murdering villain he is, sir. Clever too; seeing as he's got away on the postman's bike." "Do you know anything about him?" asked Jervis, sharply. "Lawks! and how should I? I never set eyes on him afore this blessed night." "The other gent as come," said the stranger, repeating Mrs. Vence's earlier remark, word for word. "Nonsense. I was the only visitor Sir Hector had to-night." "Makin' me out a liar, indeed," cried Mrs. Vence, much offended by the imputation. "Well, I do say as you've got a face, sir. Impudence and crime. Oh, little did I think as I'd come to sich a situation, and me so respectable." "Hold your tongue," said Jervis, so ferociously that the old creature started and trembled. "Let us get to the bottom of this. Who are you, sir?" The other man produced a card. "I am Oliver Lemby," he declared, in his deep, rich voice. "And dash you, policeman, don't look at me as I'd got anything to do with this infernal business. I came down here to see my friend----" "In a trap from Redleigh." "Not all the way," said Lemby, drily. "I travelled by train from London to Redleigh. Oh! I remember. The driver of the trap stopped to ask a policeman the way to this house. And you----" "I am the constable of Hedgerton--the only constable," said Jervis, stiffly and a trifle imperiously. "Well, sir, and what do you know of this?" "Nothing, dash and confound you!" snarled the truculent Mr. Lemby, who was as aggressive as Mrs. Vence. "I sent the trap away, hoping that Sir Hector would put me up for the night. This old hag showed me into the drawing room." "Did you hear," said Jervis, "anything likely to make you think that a crime was being committed?"