"THERE PEERED THROUGH A BROKEN PANE OF GLASS ... THE WHITE AND WICKED FACE OF THE DUMPLING."
Under the circumstances I thought it wise to put the best face I could upon my defeat, delicately hinting at the same time to Metcalfe that I should be personally obliged if he would make it convenient to do the same upon his pain, since much as one might admire a stone gargoyle which bore a resemblance to a human face, a human face which bore a striking likeness to a stone gargoyle in pain was less admirable and more alarming.
"And now," I said, "we'll return to the drawing-room and to Miss Clara, and get her to open the conservatory door so that we can search the garden without delay."
The returning to the drawing-room was easier to speak of than to accomplish, for the door, leading into the corridor from the conservatory, had been securely locked by the same fell agency which had so effectually interfered to prevent my giving chase to the Dumpling; and it was some time before I could persuade the parties, on the other side, that the persons clamouring for entrance were not burglars or murderers, but only Metcalfe and myself.
After a word or two to Miss Clara, I returned, accompanied by Metcalfe, to the conservatory, and thence to the garden. As I had feared, all was to no purpose. The broken window-pane was the only evidence of our recent visitor, for though we scoured the place from end to end, we could not find as much as a footprint by way of a clue. Without a warrant from the police—which I had no possibility of obtaining—I could not hope to explore the neighbouring garden, where it was possible the Dumpling might still be concealed; so we returned, somewhat chapfallen, to the house. Miss Clara, who was awaiting us with a perturbed countenance, refused to share my dissatisfaction at the result which had been brought about by her ill-timed action in setting the burglar alarm at work.
"In all probability I saved your life," she said calmly. "A man like that, who had just committed a murder, and no doubt had come here to commit another, or to burgle the house, was tolerably sure to have been armed; and if you had been able to open the conservatory door and to follow him out, he would in all probability have shot you at sight."
"I thought you said that all the windows were plate glass," I grumbled. "If so, how did the man contrive to break that pane and to get an arm through?"
"I said all the windows in the house," corrected Miss Clara. "The conservatory isn't in the house, and no one could get into the house, from the conservatory, without passing through the corridor door, which, as you know, was fast locked, like the rest of the doors and the windows, when I pressed the burglar bell.
"Well, you have done your best, Mr. Rissler. No man can do more. We shall have the police here directly. They have been a long time in coming as it is, but I expect the entire staff is out hunting for the murderer of poor young Grant. What shall we do when they come?"