The Eyes Have It

his hostess for his lateness. Father Bright noticed thesame sad smile on Lord Darcy's handsome face as the others werewearing.

  Lord Darcy helped himself from the buffet table and allowed theCountess to pour him a large cup of hot tea. He mentioned nothingabout the recent death. Instead, he turned the conversation toward thewild beauty of Scotland and the excellence of the grouse shootingthere.

  Father Bright had not sat down again. Instead, he left the room oncemore. When he returned, he went directly to the Countess and said, ina low, but clearly audible voice: "My lady, Sir Pierre Morlaix hasinformed me that there are a few matters that require your attentionimmediately. It will require only a few moments."

  My lady the Countess did not hesitate, but made her excusesimmediately. "Do finish your tea," she added. "I don't think I shallbe long."

  Lord Darcy knew the priest would not lie, and he wondered what sort ofarrangement had been made with Sir Pierre. Not that it mattered exceptthat Lord Darcy had hoped it would be sufficiently involved for it tokeep the Countess busy for at least ten minutes.

  The conversation, interrupted but momentarily, returned to grouse.

  "I haven't done any shooting since my accident," said Laird Duncan,"but I used to enjoy it immensely. I still have friends up every yearfor the season."

  "What sort of weapon do you prefer for grouse?" Lord Darcy asked.

  "A one-inch bore with a modified choke," said the Scot. "I have a pairthat I favor. Excellent weapons."

  "Of Scottish make?"

  "No, no. English. Your London gunsmiths can't be beat for shotguns."

  "Oh. I thought perhaps your lordship had had all your guns made inScotland." As he spoke, he took the little pistol out of his coatpocket and put it carefully on the table.

  There was a sudden silence, then Laird Duncan said in an angry voice:"What is this? Where did you get that?"

  Lord Darcy glanced at Lady Duncan, who had turned suddenly pale."Perhaps," he said coolly, "Lady Duncan can tell us."

  She shook her head and gasped. For a moment, she had trouble informing words or finding her voice. Finally: "No. No. I know nothing.Nothing."

  But Laird Duncan looked at her oddly.

  "You do not deny that it is your gun, my lord?" Lord Darcy asked. "Oryour wife's, as the case may be."

  "_Where did you get it?_" There was a dangerous quality in theScotsman's voice. He had once been a powerful man, and Lord Darcycould see his shoulder muscles bunching.

  "From the late Count D'Evreux's bedroom."

  "What was it doing there?" There was a snarl in the Scot's voice, butLord Darcy had the feeling that the question was as much directedtoward Lady Duncan as it was to himself.

  "One of the things it was doing there was shooting Count D'Evreuxthrough the heart."

  Lady Duncan slumped forward in a dead faint, overturning her teacup.Laird Duncan made a grab at the gun, ignoring his wife. Lord Darcy'shand snaked out and picked up the weapon before the Scot could touchit. "No, no, my lord," he said mildly. "This is evidence in a murdercase. We mustn't tamper with the King's evidence."

  He wasn't prepared for what happened next. Laird Duncan roaredsomething obscene in Scots Gaelic, put his hands on the arms of hiswheelchair, and, with a great thrust of his powerful arms andshoulders, shoved himself up and forward, toward Lord Darcy, acrossthe table from him. His arms swung up toward Lord Darcy's throat asthe momentum of his body carried him toward the investigator.

  He might have made it, but the weakness of his legs betrayed him. Hiswaist struck the edge of the massive oaken table, and most of hisforward momentum was lost. He collapsed forward, his hands stillgrasping toward the surprised Englishman. His chin came down hard onthe table top. Then he slid back, taking the tablecloth and the chinaand silverware with him. He lay unmoving on the floor. His wife didnot even stir except when the tablecloth tugged at her head.

  Lord Darcy had jumped back, overturning his chair. He stood on hisfeet, looking at the two unconscious forms.

  * * * * *

  "I don't think there's any permanent damage done to either," said Dr.Pateley an hour later. "Lady Duncan was suffering from shock, ofcourse, but Father Bright brought her round in a hurry. She's a devoutwoman, I think, even if a sinful one."

  "What about Laird Duncan?" Lord Darcy asked.

  "Well, that's a different matter. I'm afraid that his back injury wasaggravated, and that crack on the chin didn't do him any good. I don'tknow whether Father Bright can help him or not. Healing takes theco-operation of the patient. I did all I could for him, but I'm just achirurgeon, not a practitioner of the Healing Art. Father Bright hasquite a good reputation in that line, however, and he may be able todo his lordship some good."

  Master Sean shook his head dolefully. "His Reverence has the Talent,there's no doubt of that, but now he's pitted against another man whohas it--a man whose mind is bent on self-destruction in the long run."

  "Well, that's none of my affair," said Dr. Pateley. "I'm just atechnician. I'll leave healing up to the Church, where it belongs."

  "Master Sean," said Lord Darcy, "there is still a mystery here. Weneed more evidence. What about the eyes?"

  Master Sean blinked. "You mean the picture test, my lord?"

  "I do."

  "It won't stand up in court, my lord," said the sorcerer.

  "I'm aware of that," said Lord Darcy testily.

  "Eye test?" Dr. Pateley asked blankly. "I don't believe I understand."

  "It's not often used," said Master Sean. "It is a psychic phenomenonthat sometimes occurs at the moment of death--especially a violentdeath. The violent emotional stress causes a sort of backfiring of themind, if you see what I mean. As a result, the image in the mind ofthe dying person is returned to the retina. By using the propersorcery, this image can be developed and the last thing the dead mansaw can be brought out.

  "But it's a difficult process even under the best of circumstances,and usually the conditions aren't right. In the first place, itdoesn't always occur. It never occurs, for instance, when the personis expecting the attack. A man who is killed in a duel, or who is shotafter facing the gun for several seconds, has time to adjust to thesituation. Also, death must occur almost instantly. If he lingers,even for a few minutes, the effect is lost. And, naturally if theperson's eyes are closed at the instant of death, nothing shows up."

  "Count D'Evreux's eyes were open," Dr. Pateley said. "They were stillopen when we found him. How long after death does the image remain?"

  "Until the cells of the retina die and lose their identity. Rarelymore than twenty-four hours, usually much less."

  "It hasn't been twenty-four hours yet," said Lord Darcy, "and there isa chance that the Count was taken completely by surprise."

  "I must admit, my lord," Master Sean said thoughtfully, "that theconditions seem favorable. I shall attempt it. But don't put any hopeson it, my lord."

  "I shan't. Just do your best, Master Sean. If there is a sorcerer inpractice who can do the job, it is you."

  "Thank you, my lord. I'll get busy on it right away," said thesorcerer with a subdued glow of pride.

  * * * * *

  Two hours later, Lord Darcy was striding down the corridor of theGreat Hall, Master Sean following up as best he could, his_caorthainn_-wood staff in one hand and his big carpet bag in theother. He had asked Father Bright and the Countess D'Evreux to meethim in one of the smaller guest rooms. But the Countess came to meethim.

  "My Lord Darcy," she said, her plain face looking worried and unhappy,"is it true that you suspect Laird and Lady Duncan of this murder?Because, if so, I must--"

  "No longer, my lady," Lord Darcy cut her off quickly. "I think we canshow that neither is guilty of murder--although, of course, the blackmagic charge must still be held against Laird Duncan."

  "I understand," she said, "but--"

  "Please, my lady," Lord Darcy interrupted again, "let me explaineverything. Come."

  Wit
hout another word, she turned and led the way to the room whereFather Bright was waiting.

  The priest stood waiting, his face showing tenseness.

  "Please," said Lord Darcy. "Sit down, both of you. This won't takelong. My lady, may Master Sean make use of that table over there?"

  "Certainly, my lord," the Countess said softly, "certainly."

  "Thank you my lady. Please, please--sit down. This won't