right. Now what does that prove? Why, that the old chap's
assailant, whoever he was, dogged him along that gallery as
soon as he entered, seized him when he got to the open
doorway, and flung him through! Clear as--as noonday!"

One of the group, a rather older man than the rest, who was
leaning back in a tilted chair, hands in pockets, watching
Sackville Bonham smilingly, shook his head and laughed a
little.

"You're taking something for granted, Sackie, my son!" he
said. "You're adopting the mason's tale as true. But I don't
believe the poor man was thrown through that doorway at all
--not I!"

Bryce turned sharply on this speaker--young Archdale, a member
of a well-known firm of architects.

"You don't?" he exclaimed. "But Varner says he saw him
thrown!"

"Very likely," answered Archdale. "But it would all happen
so quickly that Varner might easily be mistaken. I'm
speaking of something I know. I know every inch of the
Cathedral fabric--ought to, as we're always going over it,
professionally. Just at that doorway, at the head of St.
Wrytha's Stair, the flooring of the clerestory gallery is worn
so smooth that it's like a piece of glass--and it slopes!
Slopes at a very steep angle, too, to the doorway itself. A
stranger walking along there might easily slip, and if the