The only calm and undisturbed person in the rectory household was
Muller. He had made a thorough examination of the entire scene of
the murder, but had not found anything at all. Of one thing alone
was he certain: the murderer had come through the hidden passageway
from the church. There were two reasons to believe this, one of
which might possibly not be sufficient, but the other was conclusive.

The heavy armchair before the desk, the chair on which the pastor
was presumably sitting when the murderer entered, was half turned
around, turned in just such a way as it would have been had the man
who was sitting there suddenly sprung up in excitement or surprise.
The chair was pushed back a step from the desk and turned towards
the entrance to the passageway. Those who had been in the room
during the day had reported that they had not touched any one of
the articles of furniture, therefore the position of the chair was
the same that had been given it by the man who had sat in it, by
the murdered pastor himself.

Of course there was always the possibility that some one had moved
the chair without realising it. This clue, therefore, could not be
looked upon as an absolutely certain one had it stood alone. But
there was other evidence far more important. The great pool of
blood was just half-way between the door of the passage and the
armchair. It was here, therefore, that the attack had taken place.
The pastor could not have turned in this direction in the hope of
flight, for there was nothing here to give him shelter, no weapon
that he could grasp, not even a cane. He must have turned in this
direction to meet and greet the invader who had entered his room in
this unusual manner. Turned to meet him as a brave man would, with
no other weapon than the sacredness of his calling and his age.