"Of course I must see him at once," said Ralph. "Why should he be denied?"
The look on Martin's face was pitiful.
"I can't tell you what I mean, Mr. Ralph," he said, "but I'm sure there is some hideous mistake. I think—I think he thinks you know something about it."
Ralph stared at the old servant in blank astonishment, utterly failing to comprehend his meaning.
"Where is the gentleman?" he said, but the question was answered for Martin. A tall figure was standing at the foot of the stairway, and bowed to Ralph as he reached the bottom step.
"Mr. Ralph Ashley?"
"At your service," Ralph answered pleasantly. "I understand you want to see me about this murder. Have you discovered anything?"
"I am sorry you have company, Mr. Ashley," the officer said in a quiet tone, so that his words might not be overheard upstairs. "I am a detective, and I hold a warrant for your arrest in connection with the murder of Sir Geoffrey Holt."
"My arrest?" cried Ralph.
"Yes, sir," the officer replied. "You understand, of course, that I am only acting in accordance with my instructions, and it is my duty to remind you that anything you say will be available as evidence."