“I gather,” he said, “that you haven’t unearthed the motive for disturbing the body.  And have you found the sharp instrument that caused death?”

The detective answered tolerantly: 

“I have found a number of sharp instruments.  None of them, however, seems quite slender or round enough.  I’ll get all that out of my man when I lock him up.  I’ll get it to-night if he dares come.”

“Why,” Graham said, “do you announce your plans so accurately to us?”

The detective’s level smile widened.

“You shouldn’t ask that, Mr. Graham.  I’ve caused the servants to know my plans.  Mr. Paredes knows them.  I wish every one in the house to know them.  That is in order that the murderer, who is in the house, may come if he wishes.”

Katherine arose abruptly.

“When you come down to it,” she said, “you are accusing one of us.  It’s brutal, unfair—­absurd.”

“I am a detective, Miss,” Howells answered.  “I have my own methods.”

Bobby stared at the slight protuberance in the breast pocket of the detective’s coat.  The cast of his footprint must be secreted there, and almost certainly the handkerchief which had been found beneath the bed.  He shrank from his own thoughts.

If he had consciously committed this murder he could understand a desire to get that evidence.

Katherine had gone closer to the detective.

“In any case,” she urged him, “I wish you wouldn’t try to spend the night in that room.  It isn’t pleasant.  After what the doctor has said, it—­well, it isn’t safe.”

Howells burst out laughing.

“Never fear, Miss.  I’m content to give Doctor Groom’s spirits as much chance to take a fall out of me as anybody.  I’ll be going up now.”  He bowed.  “Good-night to you all, and pleasant dreams.”

He opened the door and slipped into the darkness of the private staircase.  They heard him, after he had closed the door, climbing upward.  Katherine shivered.

“He has plenty of courage, Hartley!  If nothing happens to him to-night he’ll finish Bobby in the morning.  That mustn’t happen.  He mustn’t go to jail.  You understand.  Things would never be the same for him again.”

Graham spread his hands.

“What am I to do?  I might go to New York and get after these people myself.”

“Don’t leave the Cedars,” Bobby begged, “until he does arrest me.  There’ll be plenty of time for the New York end then.  I’ve no faith in it.  Watch Carlos if you want, but most important of all, find out—­somehow you’ve got to find out—­what my grandfather was afraid of.”

Graham nodded.

“And if it does come to an arrest, Bobby, you’re not to say a word to anybody without my advice.  You ought to get to bed now.  You must have rest, and Katherine, too.  Don’t listen to-night, Katherine, for messages from across the court.”

“I’ll try,” she said, “but, Hartley, I wish that man wasn’t there.  I wish no one was in that room.”