The sheriff had no further business on the island, and he accepted Eugene’s invitation to accompany him to Pine Hill. Dr. Bilks was very attentive to Julia, and while the other two gentlemen talked about the murder, he made himself as agreeable as possible to her. He assured her that Dick was incapable of deceit; if the handkerchief and cigar had been found in the boat, some one else had placed them there. It was not possible that even the suspicion of duplicity should rest upon him, and it would all be satisfactorily cleared up within a few days, if not hours. The carriage was waiting on the wharf when the boat arrived, and the whole party started for Pine Hill. When they reached the mansion, the sheriff was conducted to the library, and all the servants were sent for; but none of them had seen Mr. Birch after Eugene retired for the night. The man servant thought he heard him go out at the front door about half past nine, but was not very sure. It was this man’s business to see that the front door was locked, the windows fastened, and all the fires and lights extinguished before he went to bed; and he had attended to this duty, as usual, about ten o’clock. “Was the front door locked?” asked the sheriff. “No, sir.” “Did you lock it?” “No, sir.” “Why not?” “Because I thought Mr. Birch might be out.” “Did you know he was out?” “No; I only thought so, because I had heard the door open, as I said.” “Are you sure you heard the door opened?” “I’m not certain. There is a night lock on the door, so that it was fastened.” “What time does Mr. Birch usually retire?” “About ten or eleven.” “Why didn’t you go to his room, and see whether he was in or not?” asked the sheriff. “Because I didn’t want to disturb him, if he had gone to bed.” “Then you went to bed leaving the door unlocked?” “It was fastened by the night lock.” “How did you find it this morning?” “Just as I left it last night.” “Did you go to Mr. Birch’s room this morning?” “I never go to his room; it isn’t my business.” “Who makes the bed?” “The chambermaid, of course.” The chambermaid was called. Mr. Birch’s bed had been occupied. No one knew that he had gone out, after half past nine; no one knew that he had not. Parkinson, the man servant in the house, was a sharp, intelligent mulatto, imported from the city. He was strongly attached to Dick, and did not understand what the sheriff wished to make out of him. He did not know whether it would serve Dick best to show that he had gone out, or that he had not gone out, at the time specified; and he was one of those pliant witnesses who can be bent to serve a friend. It is quite possible that, if he had comprehended the case, he would not have “thought” that he heard the door opened at half past nine. He was not certain of anything which was important in the matter.