"Are you Mr. William Anstruther?" he asked.
He was a tall, dark, fresh-coloured man with sharp grey eyes, his companion had the appearance of an ordinary constable in plain clothes.
"Yes," I answered, rising, "I am William Anstruther."
"Then I arrest you, William Anstruther," he said, "on suspicion of causing the death of an old lady, name unknown, whose body was discovered at daybreak this morning on Lansdown, near Bath, with her throat cut. You'll have to come with us down to Bath to be charged."
Here was a terrible development!
My first thoughts were of pity for the poor old lady. How I wished I had been able to save her life.
"Very well," I answered as coolly as I could. "I suppose there is no help for it, and I had better go with you. Perhaps, Mr. Watson," I said, turning to the managing clerk, who was standing by as white as a sheet, "perhaps you will see that this man has proper authority for taking me."
"Certainly, Mr. Anstruther," he answered, then turning to the detective he asked for his papers.
"Show me your warrant, please," he said. "I shall not allow Mr.
Anstruther, our client, to leave with you unless you do."
The fresh-coloured officer smiled, and produced from his pocket a blue paper, together with some other documents. These seemed to satisfy Watson.