"A sad case, gentlemen! Mr. Gillespie has taken an overdose of chloral. We will have to leave him where he is till the coroner can be called."
A gasp followed by the clink of breaking glass came from the dining-room behind me. The old butler had dropped a glass he had just lifted off the mantel-shelf of the dining-room.
The doctor was at his side in a moment.
"What is that?" he demanded.
The butler stooped for the pieces.
"Only the glass Mr. Gillespie drank out of. He asked for wine a half hour ago. Your words frightened me, sir."
He did not look frightened; but old servants of his stamp possess a strange immobility.
"I will pick up these pieces," said the doctor, stooping beside the man.
The butler drew back. Dr. Bennett picked up the pieces. They were all dry. Evidently the glass had been drained.
As he came out he cast a keen but not unkindly glance at the group of young men drawn up in the doorway.