“Well,” said Ronny. “What’s up?”

“ Mr. Wade not having yet come down, sir, I took the liberty of sending Williams up to his room.”

“Yes?”

“Williams has just come running down in a great state of agitation, sir.” Tredwell paused⁠—a pause of preparation. “I am afraid, sir, the poor young gentleman must have died in his sleep.”

Jimmy and Ronny stared at him.

“Nonsense,” cried Ronny at last. “It’s⁠—it’s impossible. Gerry⁠—” His face worked suddenly. “I’ll⁠—I’ll run up and see. That fool Williams may have made a mistake.”

Tredwell stretched out a detaining hand.

With a queer, unnatural feeling of detachment, Jimmy realised that the butler had the whole situation in hand.