"Of course, Philip," was the gentle response.
This conversation, slight and desultory as it was, gave sufficient indication to the detective of the heavy burden Miss Heredith was bearing. The baronet could talk of nothing else during the remainder of the dinner, and when the meal was finished he begged his guest to excuse him as he wished to obtain a good night's rest to fortify him against the excitement of the coming outing. With an apologetic smile at Colwyn his sister followed him from the room.
The old butler busied himself at the sideboard as Colwyn remained seated at the table sipping his wine. His movements were so deliberate as to convey a suspicion that he was in no hurry to leave the room, and the glances he shot at Colwyn whenever he moved out of the range of his vision carried with them the additional suggestion that the detective was the unconscious cause of his slowness. More than once, after these backward glances, he opened his lips as though to speak, but did not do so. It was Colwyn who broke the silence.
"Tufnell!" he said.
"Yes, sir?" The butler deposited a dish on the sideboard and stepped quickly to the detective's chair.
"I want to ask you a question or two. It was you who found the back door of the left wing unlocked on the night of the murder, was it not?"
The butler gravely bowed, but did not speak.
"What made you try the door? Did you suspect that it was unlocked?"
"No; it was just chance that caused me to turn the handle. I'm so used to locking up the house at nights that I did it without thinking. I certainly never expected to find it unlocked, and the key in the inside of the door. That was quite a surprise to me. I have often wondered since who could have unlocked it and left the key in the door."
"You told me last time I was here that this door is usually locked and the key kept in the housekeeper's apartments. I suppose there is no doubt about that?"