Charles shook his head. "I don't know. It's possible; he was pretty distraught to-night. But I can't help thinking of what he said about the other man who died."
Peter jumped and looked round. "You don't think - the Monk did this?"
Charles did not answer immediately. "He was trying to find out who the Monk is," he said after a short pause. "He was scared out of his life; he was afraid he was being followed. So much was he afraid that he carried a fairly murderous knife on him. Now we find this." He made a gesture towards the hanging corpse.
"No sign of a struggle," Peter said, again scanning the room. "And his hands are free, and there's that chair which he obviously stood on."
"His hands might have been bound," Charles said. "No, don't touch them. This is a matter for the police. Come on, let's get out of this: we can't do anything here. We'd better go on to the Inn, and ring up the police-station at Manfield."
"Charles, we can't leave him hanging there!" Peter said, impelled by his horror of that dangling corpse.
"He's been dead for at least an hour from the look of' it," Charles said. "We can't do any good by cutting him down, and the police won't thank us for interfering. Come on: let's get out, for God's sake!"
Peter followed him into the garden. As Charles shut the door he said: "Door was unbolted. It looks damned black to me."
"Why should he bolt the door if he meant to kill himself?" was Peter's answer.
Charles did not say anything. Both he and Peter were glad to be out of that dreadful room, and they set off at a brisk pace towards the village.