夜雨聆风But we must have somelight.”
“I get the candles,” said Mitzi.
Julia went with her and they returned with several candles stuck intosaucers.
“Now let’s have a look at our malefactor,” said the Colonel. “Hold thecandles down low, will you, Swettenham? As many as you can.”
“I’ll come the other side,” said Phillipa.
With a steady hand she took a couple of saucers. Colonel Easterbrookknelt down.
The recumbent figure was draped in a roughly made black cloak with ahood to it. There was a black mask over the face and he wore black cottongloves. The hood had slipped back disclosing a ruffled fair head.
Colonel Easterbrook turned him over, felt the pulse, the heart … thendrew away his fingers with an exclamation of distaste, looking down onthem. They were sticky and red.
“Shot himself,” he said.
“Is he badly hurt?” asked Miss Blacklock.
“H’m. I’m afraid he’s dead … May have been suicide—or he may havetripped himself up with that cloak thing and the revolver went off as hefell. If I could see better—”
At that moment, as though by magic, the lights came on again.
With a queer feeling of unreality those inhabitants of Chipping Cleghornwho stood in the hall of Little Paddocks realized that they stood in thepresence of violent and sudden death. Colonel Easterbrook’s hand wasstained red. Blood was still trickling down Miss Blacklock’s neck over herblouse and coat and the grotesquely sprawled figure of the intruder lay attheir feet….
Patrick, coming from the dining room, said, “It seemed to be just onefuse gone …” He stopped.
Colonel Easterbrook tugged at the small black mask.
“Better see who the fellow is,” he said. “Though I don’t suppose it’s any-one we know….”
He detached the mask. Necks were craned forward. Mitzi hiccuped andgasped, but the others were very quiet.
