"Him!" answered Varner, nodding at the dead man. "Flung,
head and heels, clean through that doorway up there. Hadn't
a chance to save himself, he hadn't! Just grabbed at
--nothing!--and came down. Give a year's wages if I hadn't
seen it--and heard him scream."

Ransford was watching Varner with a set, concentrated look.

"Who--flung him?" he asked suddenly. "You say you saw!"

"Aye, sir, but not as much as all that!" replied the mason.
"I just saw a hand--and that was all. But," he added, turning
to the police with a knowing look, "there's one thing I can
swear to--it was a gentleman's hand! I saw the white shirt
cuff and a bit of a black sleeve!"

Ransford turned away. But he just as suddenly turned back to
the inspector.

"You'll have to let the Cathedral authorities know,
Mitchington," he said. "Better get the body removed, though,
first--do it now before the morning service is over. And--let
me hear what you find out about his identity, if you can
discover anything in the city."

He went away then, without another word or a further glance at
the dead man. But Bryce had already assured himself of what
he was certain was a fact--that a look of unmistakable relief
had swept across Ransford's face for the fraction of a second