“Who is there?” asked Ilam wearily.
“Dr. Rivers—and the ghost.”
“What is all this nonsense about a ghost?”
“You shall see him first, and then, when you have seen him—before he has seen you—you shall tell me whether or not you would like to have a chat with him. It is a ghost warranted to talk.”
Ilam said nothing. He was naturally at a complete loss.
They entered the bungalow by means of Carpentaria’s latchkey, and they mounted to the first-floor, and they went into the study. The door of the bedroom was shut. Carpentaria led Ilam out on to the balcony of the study window, from which it was not difficult, even for Ilam, to climb into the balcony of the bedroom.
“Now, you shall look into my bedroom,” said Carpentaria.
And he himself looked first. It may be said that he was astounded.
The room was lighted. There were no signs of Mr. Jetsam, but two chairs had been overturned, and young Rivers lay prone on the floor, his eyes shut, and some blood flowing from a wound in his forehead.
Carpentaria sprang into the room, and, strange to say, Ilam followed him. The fact was that Ilam did really for the moment believe Carpentaria to be mad, and the bedroom to be the scene of some maniacal crime. .