became the more apparent when we ascended the wide, well-carpeted staircase to the bed-rooms above. Searching one room after another, we saw that all the beds had been slept in, the soiled bed-linen having been flung back without the beds being re-made.
Entering one of the front rooms, both men gave vent to an ejaculation of surprise, for there, in the semi-darkness, lay the crouching figure of a man upon the carpet near the fire-place.
Saunders drew up the blind, allowing the sunlight to stream in, when several strange features became revealed. The dead man's face, as he lay turned towards them, was white as marble, but shrivelled and distorted out of all recognition, while grasped in his hand was a heavy Browning revolver, one chamber of which had been discharged, the tell-tale bullet having lodged just above the heart.
I fell upon my knees and quickly examined him.
"Suicide!" I said at last. "He's been dead nine or ten hours, I should say."
"He's quite unrecognizable. Dr. d'Escombe," remarked Wills. "I've seen a good many suicides in my time, but I've never seen
