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Lord! The man's fainted!" exclaimed Badger.

      In a moment he was down on his hands and knees, trembling with excitement, groping under the table. He dragged the unconscious lawyer out into the light and knelt over him, staring into his face.

      "What's the matter with him, Doctor?" he asked, looking up at Thorndyke. "Is it apoplexy? Or is it a heart attack, think you?"

      Thorndyke shook his head, though he stooped and put his fingers on the unconscious man's wrist. "Prussic acid or potassium cyanide is what the appearances suggest," he replied.

      "But can't you do anything?" demanded the inspector.

      Thorndyke dropped the arm, which fell limply to the floor.

      "You can't do much for a dead man," he said.

      "Dead! Then he has slipped through our fingers after all!"

      "He has anticipated the sentence. That is all." Thorndyke spoke in an even, impassive tone which struck me as rather strange, considering the suddenness of the tragedy, as did also the complete absence of surprise in his manner. He seemed to treat the occurrence as a perfectly natural one.

      Not so Inspector Badger; who rose to his feet and stood with his hands thrust into his pockets scowling sullenly down at the dead lawyer.

      "I was an infernal fool to agree to his blasted conditions," he growled savagely.

      "Nonsense," said Thorndyke. "If you had broken in, you would have found a dead man. As it was you found a live man and obtained an important statement. You acted quite properly."

      "How do you suppose he managed it?" asked Badger.

      Thorndyke held out his hand. "Let us look at his cigarette-case," said he.

      Badger extracted the little silver case from the dead man's pocket and opened it. There were five cigarettes in it, two of which were plain, while the other three were gold-tipped. Thorndyke took out one of each kind and gently pinched their ends. The gold-tipped one he returned; the plain one he tore through, about a quarter of an inch from the end; when two little white tabloids dropped out on the table. Badger eagerly picked one up and was about to smell it when Thorndyke grasped his wrist. "Be careful," said he; and when he had cautiously sniffed at the tabloid—held at a safe distance from his nose—he added: "Yes, potassium cyanide. I thought so when his lips turned that queer colour. It was in that last cigarette; you can see that he has bitten off the end."

      For some time we stood silently looking down at the still form stretched on the floor. Presently Badger looked up.

      "As you pass the porter's lodge on your way out," said he, "you might just drop in and tell him to send a constable to me."

      "Very well," said Thorndyke. "And by the way, Badger, you had better tip that sherry back into the decanter and put it under lock and key, or else pour it out of the window."

      "Gad, yes!" exclaimed the inspector. "I'm glad you mentioned it. We might have had an inquest on a constable as well as a lawyer. Good night, gentlemen, if you are off."

      We went out and left him with his prisoner—passive enough, indeed, according to his ambiguously worded promise. As we passed through the gateway Thorndyke gave the inspector's message, curtly and without comment, to the gaping porter, and then we issued forth into Chancery Lane.

      We were all silent and very grave, and I thought that Thorndyke seemed somewhat moved. Perhaps Mr. Jellicoe's last intent look—which I suspect he knew to be the look of a dying man—lingered in his memory as it did in mine. Half-way down Chancery Lane he spoke for the first time; and then it was only to ejaculate, "Poor devil!"

      Jervis took him up. "He was a consummate villain, Thorndyke."

      "Hardly that," was the reply. "I should rather say that he was non-moral. He acted without malice and without scruple or remorse. His conduct exhibited a passionless expediency which was rather dreadful because utterly unhuman. But he was a strong man—a courageous, self-contained man, and I had been better pleased if it could have been ordained that some other hand than mine should let the axe fall."

      Thorndyke's compunction may appear strange and inconsistent, but yet his feeling was also my own. Great as were the misery and suffering that this inscrutable man had brought into the lives of those I loved, I forgave him; and in his downfall forgot the callous relentlessness with which he had pursued his evil purpose. For he it was who had brought Ruth into my life; who had opened for me the Paradise of Love into which I had just entered. And so my thoughts turned away from the still shape that lay on the floor of the stately old room in Lincoln's Inn, away to the sunny vista of the future, where I should walk hand in hand with Ruth until my time, too, should come; until I, too, like the grim lawyer, should hear the solemn evening bell bidding me put out into the darkness of the silent sea.

      THE MYSTERY OF 31 NEW INN

       Table of Contents

       Preface

       The Mysterious Patient

       Thorndyke Devises a Scheme

       "A Chiel's Amang Ye Takin' Notes"

       The Official View

       Jeffrey Blackmore's Will

       Jeffrey Blackmore, Deceased

       The Cuneiform Inscription

       The Track Chart

       The House of Mystery

       The Hunter Hunted

       The Blackmore Case Reviewed

       The Portrait

       The Statement of Samuel Wilkins

       Thorndyke Lays the Mine

       Thorndyke Explodes the Mine

       An Exposition and a Tragedy

      TO MY FRIEND BERNARD E. BISHOP

      Preface

       Table of Contents

      Commenting upon one of my earlier novels, in respect of which I had claimed to have been careful to adhere to common probabilities and to have made use only of really practicable methods of investigation, a critic remarked that this was of no consequence whatever, so long as the story was amusing.

      Few people, I imagine, will agree with him. To most readers,

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