ghastliness to the face. The dead man lay back in his chair in such an
easy posture that but for his utter quietness, his intense immobility, he
might have well been taken for one who was hard and fast asleep.

The sound of the night-porter's returning footsteps sent Allerdyke out
into the corridor. Unconsciously he shook his head and raised a hand--as
if to warn the man against noise.

"Sh!" he said, still acting and speaking mechanically. "Here's--I knew
something was wrong. The fact is, my cousin's dead!"

In his surprise the night-porter dropped the key which he had been to
fetch. When he straightened himself from picking it up, his ruddy face
had paled.

"Dead!" he exclaimed in a whisper. "Him! Why, he looked the picture of
health last night. I noticed that of him, anyway!"

"He's dead now," said Allerdyke. "He's lying there dead. Come in!"

The door along the corridor from which the man of the shock head and
great beard had looked out, opened again, and the big head was protruded.
Its owner, seeing the two standing there, came out.

"Anything wrong?" he asked, advancing towards them in his pyjamas. "If
there's any illness, I'm a medical man. Can I be of use?"

Allerdyke turned sharply, looking the stranger well over. He was not
sure whether the man was an Englishman or a foreigner; he fancied that
he detected a slightly foreign accent. The tone was well-meaning, and