“Not immediately. Permit me to say, Mr. Harley, that the nature of your questions surprises me. At the moment I fail to see their bearing upon the main issue. He returned and reported to my wife that I was writing, and she then requested him to bring her a glass of milk. Accordingly, he came down again, and going out into the kitchen, executed this order.”
“Ah. He would have to light a candle for that purpose, I suppose?”
“A candle, or a lamp,” replied Colin Camber, staring at Paul Harley. Then, his expression altering: “Of course!” he cried. “You saw the light from Cray’s Folly? I understand at last.”
We were silent for a while, until:
“How long a time elapsed between the firing of the shot and Ah Tsong’s knocking at the study door?” asked Harley.
“I could not answer definitely. I was absorbed in my work. But probably only a minute or two.”
“Was the sound a loud one?”
“Fairly loud. And very startling, of course, in the silence of the night.”
“The shot, then, was fired from somewhere quite near the house?”
“I presume so.”