"What do you know of this?" asked Trent, when he had taken in the exterior of his visitor.

"As much as you see in that telegram," retorted Browne, pointing to the table. "I was a fellow-student of Mr. Herries in Edinburgh, and have not seen him for quite two years. I know him well enough to say that he is not guilty of murder."

"The evidence is strongly against him."

"Circumstantial evidence has hanged an innocent man before now."

"It will not hang Mr. Herries if he can prove his innocence. By-the-way, did you see Dr. Harkness in the train?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"I sent for him to come here, and examine the body. If he does not arrive soon, perhaps you will take his place."

"Certainly, I'll do anything to help Herries."

"I don't see how a post-mortem can help him," retorted Trent. "Sir Simon Tedder's throat has been cut."

"Sir Simon Tedder!" Browne started, and looked dismayed.

"You know him?"

"Yes. He is Herries' uncle. I attended him at Tarhaven, where he has a house, for an attack of influenza, and tried to make peace between him and his nephew."

"Ah!" Trent assumed an air of satisfaction, "then you know that the two had quarrelled?"

"I see no reason to conceal the fact that I do know," snapped the doctor sharply. "But that was two years ago. Herries went to sea, and it is incredible that he should return to murder his uncle."

"Yet you must admit that it is strange, uncle and nephew should both have been at this inn?"

"I admit nothing, until I know the facts, Mr. Inspector."

"Here they are. Between ourselves, doctor, I should like to save Mr. Herries, who seems to have had a hard time."

"He has, poor soul."

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