held him to the house. When he heard of the existence of the second key he
organised and took command of a complete search of the study, and in the
course of the search he inspected every document in the study. He said he
knew that the deceased had left a legacy to the Society, and he should not
feel justified in quitting Moze until the will was found.

Now in these circumstances Audrey ought certainly to have telegraphed to
her father's solicitor at Chelmsford at once. In the alternative she ought
to have hired a safe-opening expert or a burglar from Colchester. She had
accomplished neither of these downright things. With absolute power, she
had done nothing but postpone. She wondered at herself, for up to her
father's death she had been a great critic of absolute power.

* * * * *

The heavy policemanish step of Mr. Cowl was heard on the landing.

"He's coming down on us!" exclaimed Miss Ingate, partly afraid, and partly
ironic at her own fear. "I'm sure he's coming down on us. Audrey, I liked
that man at first, but now I tremble before him. And I'm sure his moustache
is dyed. Can't you ask him to leave?"

"Is his moustache dyed, Winnie? Oh, what fun!"

Miss Ingate's apprehension was justified. There was a knock at the study
door, discreet, insistent, menacing, and it was Mr. Cowl's knock. He
entered, smiling gravely and yet, as it were, teasingly. His easy bigness,
florid and sinister, made a disturbing contrast with the artless and pure
simplicity of Audrey in her new black robe, and even with Miss Ingate's
pallid maturity, which, after all, was passably innocent and ingenuous. Mr.