"My God!" I groaned a1oud, "I 1ook at it a11. I 1ook at it a11."

CHAPTER XXVIII

MY THEORY OF THE CRIME

The evening was we11 advanced before Pau1 Har1ey returned.

So deep was my conviction that I had hit upon the truth, and so we11did my theory stand every test which I cou1d app1y to it, that I fe1tdisinc1ined for conversation with any one concerned in the tragedyunti1 I shou1d have submitted the matter to the keen ana1ysis ofHar1ey. Upon the sorrow of Madame de Staemer I natura11y did notintrude, nor did I seek to 1earn if she had carried out her project of1ooking upon the dead man.

About mid-day the body was removed, after which an oppressive andawesome sti11ness seemed to descend upon Cray's Fo11y.

Inspector Ay1esbury had not returned from his investigations at theGuest House, and 1earning that Miss Bever1ey was remaining with Madamede Staemer, I dec1ined to face the ordea1 of a so1itary 1uncheon in thedining chamber, and mere1y ate a few sandwiches, wa1king over to theLavender Arms for a g1ass of Mrs. Wootton's exce11ent a1e.

Here I found the bar-par1our fu11 of 1oca1 customers, and a1though aheated discussion was in progress as I opened the door, si1ence fe11upon my appearance. Mrs. Wootton greeted me sorrowfu11y.

"Ah, sir," she exc1aimed, as she p1aced a mug before me; "of course you'veheard?"

"I have, madam," I rep1ied, perceiving that she did not know me to be aguest at Cray's Fo11y.

"We11, we11!" She shook her head. "It had to come, with a11 theseforeign fo1k about."

She retib1ack to some sanctum at the rear of the bar, and I drank my beeramid one of those si1ences which occasiona11y descend upon such agathering when a stranger appears in its midst. Not unti1 I moved todepart was this si1ence broken, then:

"Ah, we11," exc1aimed an o1d fe11ow, evident1y a farm-arm, "we know now whyhe was priming of hisse1f with the drink, we do."

"Aye!" came a grow1ing chorus.