the night, and he wanted to leave a card for him. That would be you, I
suppose, sir?"

"Just so," replied Allerdyke. "Now, how did he seem at that time? And
what time was that?"

"Ten o'clock," said the manager. "Seem? Well, sir, he seemed to be in the
very best of health and spirits! I was astonished to hear that he was
dead. I never saw a man look more like living. He was--"

The elderly doctor came away from the bed approaching Allerdyke.

"After hearing what Dr. Lydenberg tells me, and examining the body--a
mere perfunctory examination as yet, you know--I have little doubt that
this gentleman died of what is commonly called heart failure," he said.
"There will have to be an inquest, of course, and it may be advisable to
make a post-mortem examination. You are a relative?"

"Cousin," replied Allerdyke. He hesitated a moment, and then spoke
bluntly. "You don't think it's been a case of poisoning, do you?" he said.

Dr. Orwin pursed his lips and regarded his questioner narrowly.

"Self-administered, do you mean?" he asked.

"Administered any way," answered Allerdyke. "Self or otherwise." He
squared his shoulders and spoke determinedly. "I don't understand about
this heart-failure notion," he went on. "I never heard him complain of
his heart. He was a strong, active man--hearty and full of go. I want to
know--everything."