And Mitchington presently remarking that there was no more to
be done there, and ascertaining from Mr. Dellingham that it
was his intention to remain in Wrychester for at any rate a
few days, they went downstairs again, and Bryce and the
inspector crossed over to the police-station.

The news had spread through the heart of the city, and at the
police-station doors a crowd had gathered. Just inside two
or three principal citizens were talking to the Superintendent
--amongst them was Mr. Stephen Folliot, the stepfather of
young Bonham--a big, heavy-faced man who had been a resident
in the Close for some years, was known to be of great wealth,
and had a reputation as a grower of rare roses. He was
telling the Superintendent something--and the Superintendent
beckoned to Mitchington.

"Mr. Folliot says he saw this gentleman in the Cathedral," he
said. "Can't have been so very long before the accident
happened, Mr. Folliot, from what you say."

"As near as I can reckon, it would be five minutes to ten,"
answered Mr. Folliot. "I put it at that because I'd gone in
for the morning service, which is at ten. I saw him go up the
inside stair to the clerestory gallery--he was looking about
him. Five minutes to ten--and it must have happened
immediately afterwards."

Bryce heard this and turned away, making a calculation for
himself. It had been on the stroke of ten when he saw
Ransford hurrying out of the west porch. There was a stairway