and day at some sort of writing, and then, naturally enough, what with
not having the sort of grub he liked, and never going outside the doors,
he croaked."

"He what?" Mr. Lynn interposed.

"He died," the young man explained. "It was just about the time that
the Earl was ill himself. His Lordship gave orders that the body was to
be buried and the room locked up, in case the old chap's heirs should
come along. Seems he'd brought a few odd things of his own
over--nothing whatever of any value. Anyway, those were Lord Idlemay's
wishes, and the room has been locked up ever since."

Mr. Lynn was interested.

"No objection to our just looking inside, I suppose?"

"None whatever," the young man declared, promptly. "I was going to have
a peep myself. Here goes!"

He fitted the key in the lock and pushed the door open. Mr. Lynn took
one step forward and drew back hurriedly.

"Thanks!" he said. "That'll do! I've seen all I want--and smelt!"

Mr. Alfred Burton, fortunately or unfortunately, was possessed of less
sensitive nasal organs and an indomitable curiosity. The room was dark
and stuffy, and a wave of pungent odor swept out upon them with the
opening of the door. Nevertheless, he did not immediately close it.