They knocked, but there was no reply.
They called out.

Everything was still.

Finally, after vainly trying to force the door, they got on the roof and dropped down on to the balcony.

The windows yielded easily--their bolts were old.
When they entered, they found hanging upon the wall a splendid portrait of their master as they had last seen him, in all the wonder of his exquisite youth and beauty.

Lying on the floor was a dead man, in evening dress, with a knife in his heart.