After my wife left me, I had a nervous breakdown, and my doctor suggested travel."

"I'm sorry," said Duff. "But it's rather odd, isn't it, Mr. Honywood, that a man who has just had a nervous breakdown should be such--a sound sleeper?"

Honywood appeared startled. "I--I have never had any trouble that way," he replied.

"You're very fortunate," Duff told him. "I am meeting all the members of your party on the ground floor." He explained this again, and sent the New Yorker below to await him. When the man was out of hearing Duff turned to Hayley.

"What do you make of that, old chap?" he inquired.

"In a frightful funk, wasn't he?"

"I don't believe I ever saw a man in a worse," Duff agreed. "He knows a lot more than he's telling, and he's a badly rattled lad. But confound it, that's not evidence. Slowly, old man--we must go slowly--but we mustn't forget Mr. Honywood. He knew when the murder took place, he knew that the door was locked on both sides. And he has been suffering from a nervous breakdown--we'll have to admit he looks it--yet he sleeps as soundly as a child. Yes, we must keep Mr. Honywood in mind."

Kent came in again, this time accompanied by an old servant who was built along the general lines of Mr. Pickwick.

"This is Eben, our night-watchman," the manager explained. "You'll want to hear his story, Inspector?"

"At once," Duff answered. "What have you to tell, Eben?"

"It's this way, sir," the old man began. "I make my rounds of the house every hour, on the hour, punching the clocks. When I came on to this floor last night, on my two o'clock round, I saw a gentleman standing before one of the doors."

"Which door?"

"I'm a bit confused about it, sir, I think it was number 27."

"Twenty-seven. That's the Spicer woman's room. Go on."

"Well, sir, when he heard me, he turned quickly and came toward where I was standing, at the head of the stairs. 'Good evening,' he said. 'I'm afraid I'm on the wrong floor. My room is below.' He had the air of a gentleman, a guest, so I let him pass. I fancy I should have questioned him, sir, but here at Broome's we have never had any queer doings--up to now--so I didn't think of it."

"You saw his face?"

"Quite clearly, sir. The light was burning in the corridor. I saw him, and I can identify him if he is still about."

"Good." Duff rose. "We'll have you look over the members of Doctor Lofton's party immediately.

"One moment, sir. I had another little adventure."

"Oh, you did? What was that?"

"On my four o'clock round, when I reached this floor, the light was no longer burning. Everything was black darkness.