It was at that moment Tredwell came into the room and looked round him hesitatingly.
"I thought Mr. Bateman was here," he explained apologetically.
"Just gone out this minute through the window," said Ronny. "Can I do anything?"
Tredwell's eyes wandered from him to Jimmy Thesiger and then back again. As though singled out, the two young men left the room with him. Tredwell closed the dining-room door carefully behind him.
"Well," said Ronny. "What's up?"
"Mr. Wade not having yet come down, sir, I took the liberty of sending Williams up to his room."
"Yes."
"Williams has just come running down in a great state of agitation, sir." Tredwell paused—a pause of preparation. "I am afraid, sir, the poor young gentleman must have died in his sleep."
Jimmy and Ronny stared at him.
"Nonsense," cried Ronny at last. "It's—it's impossible. Gerry—" His face worked suddenly. "I'll—I'll run up and see. That fool Williams may have made a mistake."