"Who is there, Hedges?"
"I--it's no one in particular, sir--my lord."
What with the butler's bewilderment on the sudden change of masters, and
what with his consciousness of the presence of his visitor, he was
unusually confused. Lord Hartledon noticed it. It instantly occurred to
him that one of the ladies, or perhaps one of the women-servants, had
been admitted to the room; and he did not consider it a proper sight for
any of them.
"Who is it?" he demanded, somewhat peremptorily.
So Hedges had to confess what had taken place, and that he had allowed
the man to enter.
"Pike! Why, what can he want?" exclaimed Lord Hartledon in surprise. And
he turned to the room.
The moment the butler left him alone Mr. Pike's first proceeding had been
to cover his head again with his wide-awake, which he had evidently
removed with reluctance, and might have refused to remove at all had it
been consistent with policy; his second was to snatch up the candle, bend
over the dead face, and examine it minutely both with eye and hand.
"There _is_ a wound, then, and it's true what they are saying. I thought
it might have been gossip," he muttered, as he pushed the soft dark hair
from the temple. "Any more suspicious marks?" he resumed, taking a rapid
view of the hands and head. "No; nothing but what he'd be likely to get
in the water: but--I'll swear _that_ might have been the blow of a human
hand.
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