Gilling went
slowly, carefully inspecting every yard of the moss and lichen-covered
stones. Once he paused some time and seemed to be examining a part of the
parapet with unusual attention. When he reached the precise 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.
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