“Was the door open?”
“Yes, it was open. Poor Douglas was lying as you see him. His bedroom candle was burning on the table. It was I who lit the lamp some minutes afterward.”
“Did you see no one?”
“No. I heard Mrs. Douglas coming down the stair behind me, and I rushed out to prevent her from seeing this dreadful sight. Mrs. Allen, the housekeeper, came and took her away. Ames had arrived, and we ran back into the room once more.”
“But surely I have heard that the drawbridge is kept up all night.”
“Yes, it was up until I lowered it.”
“Then how could any murderer have got away? It is out of the question! Mr. Douglas must have shot himself.”
“That was our first idea. But see!” Barker drew aside the curtain, and showed that the long, diamond-paned window was open to its full extent. “And look at this!” He held the lamp down and illuminated a smudge of blood like the mark of a boot-sole upon the wooden sill. “Someone has stood there in getting out.”
“You mean that someone waded across the moat?”
“Exactly!”
“Then if you were in the room within half a minute of the crime, he must have been in the water at that very moment.”
“I have not a doubt of it. I wish to heaven that I had rushed to the window! But the curtain screened it, as you can see, and so it never occurred to me. Then I heard the step of Mrs. Douglas, and I could not let her enter the room. It would have been too horrible.”