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Page 6
Turning to a pale young man whom I had understood to be Sir
Crichton's private secretary, I drew his attention to this mark,
and inquired if it were constitutional. "It is not, sir,"
answered Dr. Cleeve, overhearing my question. "I have already
made that inquiry. Does it suggest anything to your mind?
I must confess that it affords me no assistance."
"Nothing," I replied. "It is most curious."
"Excuse me, Mr. Burboyne," said Smith, now turning to the secretary,
"but Inspector Weymouth will tell you that I act with authority.
I understand that Sir Crichton was--seized with illness in his study?"
"Yes--at half-past ten. I was working here in the library, and he inside,
as was our custom."
"The communicating door was kept closed?"
"Yes, always. It was open for a minute or less about
ten-twenty-five, when a message came for Sir Crichton.
I took it in to him, and he then seemed in his usual health."
"What was the message?"
"I could not say. It was brought by a district messenger, and he
placed it beside him on the table. It is there now, no doubt."
"And at half-past ten?"
"Sir Crichton suddenly burst open the door and threw himself,
with a scream, into the library. I ran to him but he waved
me back. His eyes were glaring horribly. I had just
reached his side when he fell, writhing, upon the floor.
He seemed past speech, but as I raised him and laid him upon
the couch, he gasped something that sounded like `The red hand!'
Before I could get to bell or telephone he was dead!"
Mr. Burboyne's voice shook as he spoke the words, and Smith seemed
to find this evidence confusing.
"You do not think he referred to the mark on his own hand?"
"I think not. From the direction of his last glance, I feel
sure he referred to something in the study."
"What did you do? Having summoned the servants, I ran into the study.
But there was absolutely nothing unusual to be seen. The windows were closed
and fastened. He worked with closed windows in the hottest weather.
There is no other door, for the study occupies the end of a narrow wing,
so that no one could possibly have gained access to it, whilst I was
in the library, unseen by me. Had someone concealed himself in the study
earlier in the evening--and I am convinced that it offers no hiding-place--
he could only have come out again by passing through here."
Nayland Smith tugged at the lobe of his left ear, as was his
habit when meditating.
"You had been at work here in this way for some time?"
"Yes. Sir Crichton was preparing an important book."
"Had anything unusual occurred prior to this evening?"
"Yes," said Mr. Burboyne, with evident perplexity; "though I attached
no importance to it at the time. Three nights ago Sir Crichton
came out to me, and appeared very nervous; but at times his nerves--
you know? Well, on this occasion he asked me to search the study.
He had an idea that something was concealed there."
"Some THING or someone?"
"`Something' was the word he used. I searched, but fruitlessly,
and he seemed quite satisfied, and returned to his work."
"Thank you, Mr. Burboyne. My friend and I would like a few minutes'
private investigation in the study."
CHAPTER II
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