curtain aside with a movement almost hysteric. A man lay extended at
full length on his chest in the passage beyond--what Hugo had noticed
was his boot.

'Tudor!' he exclaimed, kneeling to examine the half-concealed face.

At the same moment a figure came quietly down the passage. Hugo looked
up, and saw a sallow-featured man of about thirty-five in a tourist
suit, with light beard and hair, and long thin hands.

'What is this?' asked the stranger evenly. 'Who are you?'

'My name is Hugo,' Hugo answered with assurance. 'I was walking along
the balconies, as I do sometimes at night, and I heard strange sounds
here, and as the window was open I stepped in and found this. Are you a
friend of Mr. Tudor's?'

The other bent in his turn, and after examining the prone body said:

'I was. He has no friends now.'

'You mean he is dead?'

'He must have died within the last quarter of an hour or so.'

'And nothing can be done?'

'Nothing can be done with death!'

'I take it you are a doctor?' said Hugo.