The words were: "I die by my own hand; yet I die murdered!" They were in the quite inimitable, not to say illegible, handwriting of Leonard Quinton.
"I mean the paper on which Quinton wrote, `I die by my own hand,'" answered Father Brown.
"Well, there you are," said the aggravated Flambeau; "Quinton wrote, `I die by my own hand,' with his own hand on a plain piece of paper."
`They will tell you I die by my own hand,' or `Do not believe that--'"
He showed me the last sheets, and even read me the last paragraph, which was something like this: "The conqueror of the Punjab, a mere yellow skeleton, but still gigantic, managed to lift himself on his elbow and gasp in his nephew's ear: `I die by my own hand, yet I die murdered!'" It so happened by one chance out of a hundred, that those last words were written at the top of a new sheet of paper.