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"
Inspector Martin had the good sense to allow my friend to do
things in his own fashion, and contented himself with carefully
noting the results. The local surgeon, an old, white-haired man,
had just come down from Mrs. Hilton Cubitt's room, and he
reported that her injuries were serious, but not necessarily fatal.
The bullet had passed through the front of her brain, and it
would probably be some time before she could regain conscious-
ness. On the question of whether she had been shot or had shot
herself, he would not venture to express any decided opinion.
Certainly the bullet had been discharged at very close quarters.
There was only the one pistol found in the room, two barrels of
which had been emptied. Mr. Hilton Cubitt had been shot through
the heart. It was equally conceivable that he had shot her and then
himself, or that she had been the criminal, for the revolver lay
upon the floor midway between them.
"Has he been moved?" asked Holmes.
"We have moved nothing except the lady. We could not leave
her lying wounded upon the floor.


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