quickly left his face, which became again grim and stern.

A short silence ensued, during which Doctor McMurdoch sat staring
moodily down at the carpet and Harley slowly paced up and down
the room; then:

"In view of the fact," he said, suddenly, "that Sir Charles
clearly apprehended an attempt upon his life, are you satisfied
professionally that death was due to natural causes?"

"Perfectly satisfied," replied the physician, looking up with a
start: "perfectly satisfied. It was unexpected, of course, but
such cases are by no means unusual. He was formerly a keen
athlete, remember. 'Tis often so. Surely you don't suspect foul
play? I understood you to mean that his apprehensions were on
behalf of Phil."

Paul Harley stood still, staring meditatively in the other's
direction. "There is not a scrap of evidence to support such a
theory," he admitted, "but if you knew of the existence of any
poisonous agent which would produce effects simulating these
familiar symptoms, I should be tempted to take certain steps."

"If you are talking about poisons," said the physician, a rather
startled look appearing upon his face, "there are several I might
mention; but the idea seems preposterous to me. Why should any
one want to harm Charley Abingdon? When could poison have been
administered and by whom?"

"When, indeed?" murmured Harley. "Yet I am not satisfied."