To the sergeant, who was not without imagination, there came the dim vision of an old, grey-haired man, adrift, alone and at night, in a light skiff on the swirling flood—borne silently and resistlessly onward, while he struggled desperately in the shrouding darkness to recover the oars which had slipped from his grasp, and which were floating somewhere close by. He could almost see the man’s frantic, unavailing efforts to reach the bank, almost hear his despairing cries rising above the rush of the waters and the roar of the fall, as more and more swiftly he was swept on to his doom. Almost he could visualise the tossing, spinning boat disappear under the bridge, emerge, hang poised as if breathless for the fraction of a second above the fall, then with an unhurried, remorseless swoop, plunge into the boiling cauldron below.… A horrible fantasy truly, but to the sergeant it seemed a picture of the actual happening.
But why, he wondered, had both the oars taken the other arch? It would have been easier to explain the loss of one. With an unskilful boatman such a thing not unfrequently occurred. But to lose both involved some special cause. Possibly, he thought, Sir William had had some sudden start, had moved sharply, almost capsizing the boat, and in making an involuntary effort to right it had let go with both hands.
He was still puzzling over the problem when a note was handed him which, when he had read it, banished the matter of the oars from his mind, and turned his thoughts into a fresh direction. It ran:
Luce Manor, Thursday.—Please come out here at once. An unfortunate development has arisen.—Walter Ames.
Without loss of time the sergeant took his bicycle and rode out the two miles to Luce Manor. Dr Ames was waiting impatiently, and drew the officer aside.
‘Look here, sergeant,’ he said. ‘I’m not very happy about this business. I want a post-mortem.’
‘A post-mortem sir?’ the other repeated in astonishment. ‘Why, sir, is there anything fresh turned up, or what has happened?’
‘Nothing has happened, but’—the doctor hesitated—‘the fact is I’m not certain of the cause of death.’
The sergeant stared.
‘But is there any doubt, sir—you’ll excuse me, I hope—is there any doubt that he was drowned?’