"Now remember, all you've got to do is to follow my lead, and not take fright at anything. Caw may not be alone in the house. It is even possible that he may have the company of some wretched lawyer fellow who has been nosing around all day. Come, buck up! You'll feel fitter after a drink. Allons!"
Taking Lancaster by the elbow, he led him up the gravel path, leaves rustling about their feet. They mounted the three broad steps to the closed outer door, and, with a muttered "Here's luck!" Bullard rung the electric bell.
"Good!" he exclaimed a few seconds later, as a flood of light poured from the fan-light.
They heard the inner door being opened; then with the minimum of noise, a large key was turned, and half of the outer door swung inwards. The late Mr. Craig's servant, in his customary black lounge suit, stood there regarding them quite calmly.
Bullard had expected at least a word of astonishment, so that there was a little pause until his own words arrived.
"Good evening, Caw," he said gravely. "We very much regret to disturb you at this hour, and at this tragic time, but our business is of the utmost importance. May we have a word with you?"
Still silent, the servant stood aside, and they entered.
Said Bullard—"I need not say that we were both greatly shocked by your wire this morning. I trust our old friend did not suffer much."
"Too much, sir," answered Caw quietly, turning from closing the door. His countenance had a bleak look; his eyes were heavy. He stepped past them and opened a door on the right, switching on the lights inside. "This way, if you please, gentlemen."
Lancaster showed a momentary hesitation, or confusion, but Bullard touched his arm and he accepted the invitation.