Brook, the coachman; and as Matthew Brook was a general favourite, the
subject was dropped. Mr. Larkspur devoted the next morning to a
careful examination of all possible entrances to the castle. When he
saw the half-glass door opening from the quadrangle into the little
bedchamber occupied by Stephen Plumpton, the footman, he gave a long,
low whistle, and smiled to himself, with the triumphant smile of a man
who has found a clue to the mystery he wishes to solve.
Mrs. Smithson, the housekeeper, conducted Andrew Larkspur from room to
room during this careful investigation of the premises; and she and
Stephen Plumpton alone were present when he examined this half-glass
door.
"Do you always bolt your door of a night?" Mr. Larkspur asked of the
footman.
"A ways, sir."
The tone of the man's voice and the man's face combined to betray him
to the skilled police-officer.
Andrew Larkspur knew that the man had told him a deliberate falsehood.
"Are you certain you bolted this door on that particular night?"
"Oh, quite certain, sir."
The police-officer examined the bolt. It was a very strong one; but it
moved so stiffly as to betray the fact that it was very rarely used.
Mrs. Smithson did not notice this fact; but Mr. Larkspur did. It was
his business to take note of small facts.
"Can you remember what you were doing on that particular night?" he
asked, presently, turning again to the embarrassed Stephen.
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