"It is incredible that such a thing as the theft of a body should occur," said Etwald, dryly. "Yet it has taken place. But where is Mr. Sarby? I should think that he would be present to aid you." Jen was just about to repeat his feigned explanation regarding David's absence, when the door opened, and the young man, wet and exhausted, entered the room. To give him his cue, the major spoke to him at once.
"You are just in time, David, as I was telling these gentlemen about your hunt after those wretches. Did you see anyone?"
"I saw nothing," said David, wearily. "God knows what has become of the body!"
"Have you any theory, Mr. Sarby?"
"No, doctor! I am too weary to frame theories at this hour of the night. But, no doubt, Mr. Inspector yonder, can--"
"Certainly not," interrupted Arkel, sharply. "I can prove nothing. I am quite puzzled."
"And no wonder," said Etwald, counting off events on his fingers. "The devil-stick, the murder, the theft of the body. This is a catalogue of horrors. A man might do worse than write a story on these things."
"I agree with you!" remarked the major, sharply. "A man might make a jest of these horrors--as you are doing."
"I assure you I never felt less like jesting in my life," replied Etwald, coldly. "But it is no use discussing such a thing at five in the morning. If you can do without me, major, I shall return to Deanminster. I am tired."
"But Jaggard?" asked David, rising stiffly from his chair.