If I were arrested the grief of Mr. Gascoyne and my wife would be rather trying, but I had counted the cost of discovery when I originally set out on my adventures.
Mr. Gascoyne was busily occupied in arranging for the funeral.
I was very anxious to discover whether there was any likelihood of a posthumous heir.
I noticed that Mr. Gascoyne did not so far permit himself to be addressed as the Earl.
The inquest was held the next day. The detective, I knew, had arrived the night before, and was making inquiries. In the morning he was standing in the hall as I passed towards the breakfast-room. I knew perfectly well he was waiting to see me, and the swift glance I took at his face convinced me that he was on the right track.
I felt a terrible shock, notwithstanding the fact that I had been steeling myself ever since Lord Gascoyne’s death to meet such a situation.
The specialist was the only occupant of the breakfast-room when I entered. I had not seen him or his brethren since early the evening before.
“Have you arrived at the cause of Lord Gascoyne’s death?” I asked.
“Poison,” he said shortly.
I started, as if immensely surprised.