"The coroner," he remarked, "is having the body taken to the nearest mortuary, Mr. Gilbert, and he will report later. Meanwhile, I have made an examination of these apartments, and I am bound to say that everything in them appears to be in good order. I see no sign of disorder, no indication of a struggle. And I have looked into the bedroom, and there also I can see nothing to take hold of. Mr. Silwood, I should say, prepared in the most leisurely fashion for his trip; not a thing betokens hurry or flurry—this is all satisfactory enough, so far as it goes."
Gale addressed a few words to the coroner, and then the body was removed. As Gilbert turned to leave the room, Gale put his arm on his sleeve.
"What about the date?" he asked.
"Mr. Silwood left either that Friday night or next morning—which, is not certain."
Gale looked at Gilbert, earnestly, but he did not speak; his silence was eloquent enough.
"You think," said Gilbert, slowly, "that Silwood murdered——?"
He did not complete the sentence.
"I say nothing definite, Mr. Gilbert; but don't you think it looks that way?"
"It is impossible—impossible!" said Gilbert.
But Gale shook his head.