Colin, who was beginning to feel distinctly weary, contented himself with a nod.
"You'll know where to find me," he said, pointing to his room. "If there's anything you happen to want just give me a call."
He left his companion at the end of the passage and mounted the second flight, which led up to the servants' quarters. Somewhat to his surprise, he found Mrs. Ramsay and the cook, both fully dressed, standing on the small landing at the head of the stairs.
"We couldn't stop in bed," explained the former, "not after we heard the bell ring. Oh, sir, what do the police say? Have they——"
"The Inspector wants to have a few minutes' talk with both of you," he said. "Of course, if Mrs. Wilson doesn't feel well enough——"
The cook drew herself up with a suggestion of injured pride.
"I know my duty, sir," she remarked. "If the police wishes for my hevidence they shall have it heven if I drop dead on the carpet, the same as my poor mother did before me."
There being apparently nothing further to be said, Colin conducted his charges as far as the study, where he found the two detectives waiting to receive them. He remained just long enough to make the necessary introductions, and then, availing himself of Marsden's suggestion, returned upstairs again to his own room.
Now that his services were no longer needed an irresistible reaction had suddenly set in. He felt tired out in mind and body, and, scarcely conscious of anything but an intense desire for sleep, he threw off his dressing gown, and, for the second time that evening, clambered thankfully into bed.
* * * * * * * * *