"It is, indeed, sir," said the man, leading the magnate through the
dining-room into the pastor's study, where, as far as could be seen,
the murder had been committed. They were joined by the district
judge, who had remained behind to give an order sending a carriage
to the nearest railway station. The judge, too, was serious and
deeply shocked, for he also had greatly admired and revered the old
pastor. The stately rectory had been the scene of many a jovial
gathering when the lord of the manor had made it a centre for a day's
hunting with his friends. The bearers of some of the proudest names
in all Hungary had gathered in the high-arched rooms to laugh with
the venerable pastor and to sample the excellent wines in his cellar.
These wines, which the gentlemen themselves would send in as
presents to the master of the rectory, would be carefully preserved
for their own enjoyment. Not a landed proprietor for many leagues
around but knew and loved the old pastor, who had now so strangely
disappeared under such terrifying circumstances.

"Well, we might as well begin our examination," remarked the Count.
"Although if Dr. Orszay's sharp eyes did not find anything, I doubt
very much if we will. You have asked the doctor to come here again,
haven't you?"

"Yes, your Grace! As soon as I saw you coming I sent the sexton to
the asylum." Then the men went in again into the room which had
been the scene of the mysterious crime. The wind rattled the open
window and blew out its white curtains. It was already dark in the
corners of the room, one could see but indistinctly the carvings of
the wainscoting. The light backs of the books, or the gold letters
on the darker bindings, made spots of brightness in the gloom. The
hideous pool of blood in the centre of the floor was still plainly