“That’s the window,” said White Mason, “that one on the immediate right of the drawbridge. It’s open just as it was found last night.”
“It looks rather narrow for a man to pass.”
“Well, it wasn’t a fat man, anyhow. We don’t need your deductions, Mr. Holmes, to tell us that. But you or I could squeeze through all right.”
Holmes walked to the edge of the moat and looked across. Then he examined the stone ledge and the grass border beyond it.
“I’ve had a good look, Mr. Holmes,” said White Mason. “There is nothing there, no sign that anyone has landed—but why should he leave any sign?”
“Exactly. Why should he? Is the water always turbid?”
“Generally about this colour. The stream brings down the clay.”
“How deep is it?”
“About two feet at each side and three in the middle.”
“So we can put aside all idea of the man having been drowned in crossing.”