When we entered the drawing-room he seemed lost in admiration of the
apartment, and did not even glance at the open coffin which stood on the
trestles. He walked to the window, drew aside the blind, and looked into
the garden. Then he looked into the small room.

"No other exit here but the window. An entrance might have been made by
that window."

"The door between the two rooms was locked," said Sir Arthur. "I had to
get the key from my mother when Mr. Wigan wanted to go in. It is my
mother's special room, but she had been so occupied in nursing my father
that she had not used it for more than a week."

Then Quarles looked at the wreaths, wanted to know which ones had been
left near the coffin when the room was locked for the night, and the
wreaths which Sir Arthur pointed out he examined carefully. Then he
pointed to a large cross lying on an armchair.

"Has that one been there all the time?"

Sir Arthur explained that two or three wreaths had come late in the
evening. He had himself brought them into the room on the morning of the
funeral. That cross was one of them.

"Ah, it is a pity you didn't bring them in that night. You might have
surprised the villains at work."

"We were in bed by eleven. Do you imagine they began before that?"

"Possibly," said Quarles, as he turned his attention to the coffin. He