He made a few steps in the direction of the bed with his arms outstretched, then stopped, and, swinging round, faced the guests who were thronging the corridor outside.

"Murdered, I say!" he repeated.

"Where is the murderer ?" He stood for a moment, fixing a wild eye on the group of frightened faces in the doorway, as though seeking the murderer among them.

Then his face became distorted, and he fell to the ground.

His limbs seemed to grow rigid as he lay; his legs were extended stiffly, the upper part of his arms were pressed against his breast, but the forearms inclined forward, with the palms of the hand thrown back, and the fingers wide apart.