In alarm he went to the window and peered in. The floor was strewn with papers scattered in confusion. A chair had been overturned. More to the point, he saw an overturned inkpot, which was eloquent to his ordered mind of an unusual happening.
Increasingly alarmed, he put his shoulder to the door, but it did not yield. He tried the window; it was locked.
It was at that moment that a motor came swiftly over the hill from the direction of the rectory. With a jar it came to a sudden stop before the house, and T. B. Smith leapt out.
Brown had seen the detective before on his visits to the rectory, and now hailed him as veritably god-sent.
"Where is Lady Constance?" asked T. B., quickly.
The man pointed to the house with trembling finger.
"She's in there somewhere," he said, fretfully, "but I can't make her answer ... and the room appears to be very disordered."
He led the way to the window. T. B. looked in and saw that which confirmed his worst fears.
"Stand back," he said.