cise spot at which he had aimed, he instantly called across to Copplestone.
"There's no doubt about his having fallen from here!" he said. "Some of the masonry on the very edge of this parapet is loose. I could dislodge it with a touch."
"Then be careful," answered Copplestone. "Don't cross that bit!"
But Gilling quietly continued his progress and returned to his companion by the opposite side from which he had set out, having thus accomplished the entire round. He quietly reassumed his overcoat.
"No doubt about the fall," he said as they turned down the stair. "The next thing is—was it accidental?"
"And—as regards that—what's to be done next?" asked Copplestone.
"That's easy. We must go at once and wire for Sir Cresswell and old Petherton," replied Gilling. "It's now four-thirty. If they catch an evening express at King's Cross they'll get here early in the morning. If they like to motor from Norcaster they can get here in the small hours. But—they must be here for that inquest."
Greyle was talking to Chatfield at the foot of the Keep when they got down. The agent turned surlily away, but the Squire looked at both with an unmistakable eagerness.
"There's no doubt whatever that Oliver fell from the parapet," said Copplestone. "The marks of a fall are there—quite unmistakably."
