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diff --git a/14853-h/14853-h.htm b/14853-h/14853-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..65702d8 --- /dev/null +++ b/14853-h/14853-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8292 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content= +"HTML Tidy for Mac OS X (vers 1st August 2004), see www.w3.org" /> +<meta http-equiv="content-type" content= +"text/html; charset=us-ascii" /> +<title>The Stowmarket Mysters, by Louis Tracy.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[*/ + <!-- + body {font-family:Georgia,serif;margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;font-variant:small-caps;} + pre {font-family:Courier,monospaced;font-size: 0.8em;} + sup {font-size:0.7em;} + hr {width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + hr.short {width:25%;} + h3 {padding-top:1.5em;} + + ul {list-style-type:none;padding-left:1em;text-indent:-1em;} + ol {list-style-type:upper-roman;margin-left:10%;font-variant:small-caps;} + .returnTOC {text-align:right;font-size:.7em;} + .quote {text-align:justify;text-indent:0em;margin-left:10%;margin-right:10%;} + .cen {text-align:center;} + .rgt {text-align:right;} + .figure {padding: 1em; margin: auto;} + a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + --> +/*]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Stowmarket Mystery, by Louis Tracy + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Stowmarket Mystery + Or, A Legacy of Hate + +Author: Louis Tracy + +Release Date: February 1, 2005 [EBook #14853] +[Last updated: December 28, 2020] + +Language: english + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STOWMARKET MYSTERY *** + + + + +Produced by Bill Tozier, Barbara Tozier, and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + +<h1>The Stowmarket Mystery</h1> +<h3>Or A Legacy of Hate</h3> +<h2 style="margin-top:2em;">by Louis Tracy</h2> +<h4>Author of</h4> +<ul style="margin-left:15%;"> +<li>“Wings of the Morning,”</li> +<li>“The Final War,”</li> +<li>“An American Emperor,”</li> +<li>“Disappearance of Lady Delia,” etc., etc.</li> +</ul> +<hr class="short" /> +<h4>1904</h4> +<hr /> +<h2><a id="Contents" name="Contents">Contents</a></h2> +<ol style="list-style-type: upper-roman;"> +<li><a href="#Ch_I">“The Stowmarket Mystery”</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_II">David Hume’s Story</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_III">The Dream</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_IV">Through the Library Window</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_V">From Behind the Hedge</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_VI">An Old Acquaintance</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_VII">Husband and Wife</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_VIII">Revelations</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_IX">The Ko-Katana</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_X">The Black Museum</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XI">Mr. “Okasaki”</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XII">What the Stationmaster Saw</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XIII">Two Women</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XIV">Margaret Speaks Out</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XV">An Unexpected Visitor</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XVI">The Cousins</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XVII">“Cherchez La Femme”</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XVIII">Further Complications</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XIX">The Third Man Appears</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XX">The Trail</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XXI">Concerning Chickens, and Motives</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XXII">The Second Attack</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XXIII">Margaret’s Secret</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XXIV">The Meeting</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XXV">Where Did Margaret Go?</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XXVI">Mr. Ooma</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XXVII">Holden’s Story</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XXVIII">Mr. and Mrs. Jiro</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XXIX">Margaret’s Secret</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XXX">Husband and Wife</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XXXI">To Beechcroft</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XXXII">The Fight</a></li> +<li><a href="#Ch_XXXIII">The Last Note in Brett’s +Diary</a></li> +</ol> +<hr /> +<h2>A LEGACY OF HATE</h2> +<hr /> +<h3><a name="Ch_I" id="Ch_I">Chapter I</a></h3> +<h2>“The Stowmarket Mystery”</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>“Mr. David Hume.”</p> +<p>Reginald Brett, barrister-detective, twisted round in his +easy-chair to permit the light to fall clearly on the card handed +to him by his man-servant.</p> +<p>“What does Mr. David Hume look like, Smith?” he +asked.</p> +<p>“A gentleman, sir.”</p> +<p>Well-trained servants never make a mistake when they give such a +description of a visitor. Brett was satisfied.</p> +<p>“Produce him.”</p> +<p>Then he examined the card.</p> +<p>“It is odd,” he thought. “Mr. David Hume gives +no address, and writes his own cards. I like his signature, too. +Now, I wonder—”</p> +<p>The door was thrown open. A tall, well-proportioned young man +entered. He was soberly attired in blue serge. His face and hands +bore the impress of travel and exposure. His expression was +pleasing and attractive. In repose his features were regular, and +marked with lines of thought. A short, well-trimmed beard, of the +type affected by some naval men, gave him a somewhat unusual +appearance. Otherwise he carried himself like a British cavalry +officer in mufti.</p> +<p>He advanced into the room and bowed easily. Brett, who had +risen, instantly felt that his visitor was one of those people who +erect invisible barriers between themselves and strangers.</p> +<p>“My errand will occupy some time, perhaps half an hour, to +permit of full explanation,” said Mr. Hume. “May I +ask—”</p> +<p>“I am completely at your service. Take that chair. You +will find it comfortable. Do you smoke? Yes. Well, try those +cigarettes. They are better than they look.”</p> +<p>Mr. Hume seemed to be gratified by this cordial reception. He +seated himself as requested, in the best light obtainable in a +north-side Victoria Street flat, and picked up the box of +cigarettes.</p> +<p>“Turkish,” he announced.</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Grown on a slope near Salonica.”</p> +<p>“Indeed? You interest me.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I know them well. I was there two months ago. I +suppose you got these as a present from Yildiz Kiosk?”</p> +<p>“Mr. Hume, you asked for half an hour, Make it an hour. +You have touched upon a subject dear to my heart.”</p> +<p>“They are the best cigarettes in the world. No one can buy +them. They are made for the exclusive use of the Sultan’s +household. To attempt to export them means the bastinado and +banishment, at the least. I do not credit you with employing agents +on such terms, so I assume an Imperial gift.”</p> +<p>The barrister had been looking intently at the other man during +this short colloquy. Suddenly his eyes sparkled. He struck a match +and held it to his visitor, with the words:</p> +<p>“You are quite right, Mr. David Hume-Frazer.”</p> +<p>The person thus addressed neither started, nor sprang to his +feet, nor gasped in amazement He took the match, lit a cigarette, +and said:</p> +<p>“So you know me?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“It is strange. I have never previously met you to my +knowledge. Am I still a celebrity?”</p> +<p>“To me—yes.”</p> +<p>“A sort of distinguished criminal, eh?”</p> +<p>“No man could be such a judge of tobacco and remain +commonplace.”</p> +<p>“‘Pon my honour, Mr. Brett, I think you deserve your +reputation. For the first time during eighteen months I feel +hopeful. Do you know, I passed dozens of acquaintances in the +streets yesterday and none of them knew me. Yet you pick me out at +the first glance, so to speak.”</p> +<p>“They might do the same if you spoke to them, +Mr.—”</p> +<p>“Hume, if you please.”</p> +<p>“Certainly. Why have you dropped part of your +surname?”</p> +<p>“It is a long story. My lawyers, Flint & Sharp, of +Gray’s Inn, heard of your achievements in the cases of Lady +Lyle and the Imperial Diamonds. They persuaded me to come to +you.”</p> +<p>“Though, personally, you have little faith in +me?”</p> +<p>“Heaven knows, Mr. Brett, I have had good cause to lose +faith. My case defies analysis. It savours of the +supernatural.”</p> +<p>The barrister shoved his chair sideways until he was able to +reach a bookcase, from which he took a bulky interleaved +volume.</p> +<p>“Supernatural,” he repeated. “That is new to +me. As I remember the affair, it was highly sensational, +perplexing—a blend of romance and Japanese knives—but I +do not remember any abnormal element save one, utter absence of +motive.”</p> +<p>“Do you mean to say that you possess a record of the +facts?” inquired Hume, exhibiting some tokens of excitement +in face and voice as he watched Brett turning over the leaves of +the scrap-book, in which newspaper cuttings were neatly pasted, +some being freely annotated.</p> +<p>“Yes. The daily press supplies my demands in the way of +fiction—a word, by the way, often misapplied. Where do you +find stranger tales than in the records of every-day life? Ah, here +we are!”</p> +<p>He searched through a large number of printed extracts. There +were comments, long reports, and not a few notes, all under the +heading: “The Stowmarket Mystery.”</p> +<p>Hume was now deeply agitated; he evidently restrained his +feelings by sheer force of will.</p> +<p>“Mr. Brett,” he said, and his voice trembled a +little, “surely you could not have expected my presence here +this morning?”</p> +<p>“I no more expected you than the man in the moon,” +was the reply; “but I recognised you at once. I watched your +face for many hours whilst you stood in the dock. Professional +business took me to the Assizes during your second trial. At one +time I thought of offering my services.”</p> +<p>“To me?”</p> +<p>“No, not to you.”</p> +<p>“To whom, then?”</p> +<p>“To the police. Winter, the Scotland Yard man who had +charge of the business, is an old friend of mine.”</p> +<p>“What restrained you?”</p> +<p>“Pity, and perhaps doubt. I could see no reason why you +should kill your cousin.”</p> +<p>“But you believed me guilty?”</p> +<p>The barrister looked his questioner straight in the eyes. He saw +there the glistening terror of a tortured soul. Somehow he expected +to find a different expression. He was puzzled.</p> +<p>“Why have you come here, Mr. Hume?” he abruptly +demanded.</p> +<p>“To implore your assistance. They tell me you are the one +man in the world able to clear my name from the stain of crime. +Will you do it?”</p> +<p>Again their eyes met. Hume was fighting now, fighting for all +that a man holds dear. He did not plead. He only demanded his +rights. Born a few centuries earlier, he would have enforced them +with cold steel.</p> +<p>“Come, Mr. Brett,” he almost shouted. “If you +are as good a judge of men as you say I am of tobacco, you will not +think that the cowardly murderer who struck down my cousin would +come to you, of all others, and reopen the story of a crime closed +unwillingly by the law.”</p> +<p>Brett could, on occasion, exhibit an obstinate determination not +to be drawn into expressing an opinion. His visitor’s +masterful manner annoyed him. Hume, metaphorically speaking, took +him by the throat and compelled his services. He rebelled against +this species of compulsion, but mere politeness required some +display of courteous tolerance.</p> +<p>“It seems to me,” he said, “that we are +beginning at the end. I may not be able to help you. What are the +facts?”</p> +<p>The stranger was so agitated that he could not reply. +Self-restrained men are not ready with language. Their thoughts may +be fiery as bottled vitriol, but they keep the cork in. The +barrister allowed for this drawback. His sympathies were aroused, +and they overcame his slight resentment.</p> +<p>“Try another cigarette,” he said, “I have here +a summary of the evidence. I will read it to you. Do not interrupt. +Follow the details closely, and correct anything that is wrong when +I have ended.”</p> +<p>Hume was still volcanic, but he took the proffered box.</p> +<p>“Ah,” cried Brett, “though you are angry, your +judgment is sound. Now listen!”</p> +<p>Then he read the following statement, prepared by himself in an +idle moment:—</p> +<p>“The Stowmarket Mystery is a strange mixture of the real +and the unreal. Sir Alan Hume-Frazer, fourth baronet, met his death +on the hunting-field. His horse blundered at a brook and the rider +was impaled on a hidden stake, placed in the stream by his own +orders to prevent poachers from netting trout. His wife, née +Somers, a Bristol family, had pre-deceased him.</p> +<p>“There were two children, a daughter, Margaret, aged +twenty-five, and a son, Alan, aged twenty-three. By his will, Sir +Alan left all his real and personal estate to his son, with a life +charge of £1,000 per annum for the daughter. As he was a very +wealthy man, almost a millionaire, the provision for his daughter +was niggardly, which might be accounted for by the fact that the +girl, several years before her father’s death, quarrelled +with him and left home, residing in London and in Florence. Both +children, by the way, were born in Italy, where Sir Alan met and +married Miss Somers.</p> +<p>“The old gentleman, it appeared, allowed Miss Hume-Frazer +£5,000 per annum during his life. His son voluntarily +continued this allowance, but the brother and sister continued to +live apart, he devoted to travel and sport, she to music and art, +with a leaning towards the occult—a woman divorced from +conventionality and filled with a hatred of restraint.</p> +<p>“Beechcroft, the family residence, is situated four miles +from Stowmarket, close to the small village of Sleagill. After his +father’s death, the young Sir Alan went for a protracted tour +round the world. Meanwhile his first cousin, Mr. David Hume-Frazer, +lived at Beechcroft during the shooting season, and incidentally +fell in love with Miss Helen Layton, daughter of the rector of +Sleagill, the Rev. Wilberforce Layton.”</p> +<p>Hume stirred uneasily in his chair, and the barrister paused, +expecting him to say something. But the other only gasped brokenly: +“Go on; go on!”</p> +<p>“Love lasts longer than death or crime,” mused +Brett.</p> +<p>He continued:</p> +<p>“In eighteen months Sir Alan the fifth—all heirs had +same name—returned to Beechcroft, about Christmas. His cousin +had been called away on family business, but returned for a New +Year’s Eve ball, given by Mrs. Eastham, a lady of some local +importance. Sir Alan and Helen Layton had followed the hounds +together three times during Christmas week. They were, of course, +old friends.</p> +<p>“David sent from Scotland—his father’s estate +was situated close to Inverness—some presents to his future +wife, his cousin, and others. The gift to Sir Alan was noteworthy +and fatalistic—a handsomely inlaid Japanese sword, with a +small dagger inserted in a sheath near the top of the scabbard. +David reached Beechcroft on the day of the ball. Relations between +the cousins seemed to the servants to be cool, though the coolness +lay rather with the baronet, and David, a year older, it may be +here stated, was evidently taken by surprise by Sir Alan’s +attitude.</p> +<p>“The three young people went to the ball, and shortly +after midnight there was something in the nature of a scene. Sir +Alan had been dancing with Miss Layton. They were in the +conservatory when the young lady burst into tears, hurried to find +David, and asked him to take her at once to her carriage. Mrs. +Eastham was acting as chaperon to the girl, and some heated words +passed between her and the two young men.</p> +<p>“Evidence showed that Sir Alan had bitterly upbraided Miss +Layton on account of her engagement, and hinted that David had +taken an unfair advantage of his (Alan’s) absence to win her +affections. This was absolutely untrue. It was denied by the two +most concerned, and by Mrs. Eastham, who, as a privileged friend, +knew all the facts. The young men were in a state of white heat, +but David sensibly withdrew, and walked to the Hall.</p> +<p>“Mrs. Eastham’s house was close to the lodge gates, +and from the lodge a straight yew-shaded drive led to the library +windows, the main entrance being at the side of the house.</p> +<p>“In the library a footman, on duty in the room, maintained +a good fire, and the French windows were left unfastened, as the +young gentlemen would probably enter the house that way. David did, +in fact, do so. The footman quitted the room, and a few minutes +later the butler appeared. He was an old favourite of +David’s. He asked if he should send some whisky and soda.</p> +<p>“The young man agreed, adding:</p> +<p>“‘Sir Alan and I have commenced the year badly, +Ferguson. We quarrelled over a silly mistake. I have made up my +mind not to sleep on it, so I will await his arrival. Let me know +if he comes in the other way.’</p> +<p>“The butler hoped that the matter was not a serious +one.</p> +<p>“‘Under other circumstances it might be,’ was +the answer, ‘but as things are, it is simply a wretched +mistake, which a little reasonable discussion will put +right.’</p> +<p>“The footman brought the whisky and soda.</p> +<p>“Twenty minutes later he re-entered the room to attend to +the fire. Mr. David Hume-Frazer was curled up in an arm-chair +asleep, or rather dozing, for he stirred a little when the man put +some coal in the grate. This was at 1 a.m. exactly.</p> +<p>“At 1.10 a.m. the butler thought he heard his +master’s voice coming from the front of the house, and +angrily protesting something. Unfortunately he could not catch a +single word. He imagined that the ‘quarrel’ spoken of +by David had been renewed.</p> +<p>“He waited two minutes, not more, but hearing no further +sounds, he walked round to the library windows, thinking that +perhaps he would see Sir Alan in the room.</p> +<p>“To his dismay he found his young master stretched on the +turf at the side of the drive, thirty feet from the house. He +rushed into the library, where David was still asleep and moving +uneasily—muttering, the man thought:</p> +<p>“‘Come quickly, sir,’ he cried, ‘I fear +something has happened to Sir Alan. He is lying on the ground +outside the house, and I cannot arouse him.’</p> +<p>“Then David Hume-Frazer sprang to his feet and +shouted:</p> +<p>“‘My God! It was not a dream. He is +murdered!’</p> +<p>“Unquestionably—”</p> +<p>But the barrister’s cold-blooded synopsis of a thrilling +crime proved to be too much for his hearer’s nerves. Hume +stood up. The man was a born fighter. He could take his +punishment, but only on his feet.</p> +<p>Again he cried in anguish:</p> +<p>“No! It was no dream, but a foul murder. And they blame +me!”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_II" id="Ch_II">Chapter II</a></h3> +<h2>David Hume’s Story</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Brett closed the book with a snap.</p> +<p>“What good purpose can it serve at this time to reopen the +miserable story?” he asked.</p> +<p>Curiously enough, Hume paid no heed to the question. His lips +quivered, his nostrils twitched, and his eyes shot strange gleams. +He caught the back of his chair with both hands in a grasp that +tried to squeeze the tough oak.</p> +<p>“What else have you written there?” he said, and +Brett could not help but admire his forced composure.</p> +<p>“Nothing of any material importance. You were arrested, +after an interval of some days, as the result of a coroner’s +warrant. You explained that you had a vivid dream, in which you saw +your cousin stabbed by a stranger whom you did not know, whose face +even you never saw. Sir Alan was undoubtedly murdered. The +dagger-like attachment to your Japanese sword had been driven into +his breast up to the hilt, actually splitting his heart. To deliver +such a blow, with such a weapon, required uncommon strength and +skill. I think I describe it here as +‘un-English.’”</p> +<p>Brett referred to his scrap-book. In spite of himself, he felt +all his old interest reawakening in this remarkable crime.</p> +<p>“Yes?” queried Hume.</p> +<p>The barrister, his lips pursed up and critical, surveyed his +concluding notes.</p> +<p>“You were tried at the ensuing Assizes, and the jury +disagreed. Your second trial resulted in an acquittal, though the +public attitude towards you was dubious. The judge, in summing up, +said that the evidence against you ‘might be deemed +insufficient.’ In these words he conveyed the popular +opinion. I see I have noted here that Miss Margaret Hume-Frazer was +at a Covent Garden Fancy Dress Ball on the night of the murder. But +the tragic deaths of her father and brother had a marked influence +on the young lady. She, of course, succeeded to the estates, and +decided at once to live at Beechcroft. Does she still live +there?”</p> +<p>“Yes. I am told she is distinguished for her charity and +good works. She is married.”</p> +<p>“Ah! To whom?”</p> +<p>“To an Italian, named Giovanni Capella.”</p> +<p>“His stage name?”</p> +<p>“No; he is really an Italian.”</p> +<p>Brett’s pleasantry was successful in its object. David +Hume regained his equanimity and sat down again. After a pause he +went on:</p> +<p>“May I ask, Mr. Brett, before I tell you my part of the +story, if you formed any theories as to the occurrence at the +time?”</p> +<p>The barrister consulted his memoranda. Something that met his +eyes caused him to smile.</p> +<p>“I see,” he said, “that Mr. Winter, of +Scotland Yard, was convinced of your guilt. That is greatly in your +favour.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>Hume disdained the police, but Brett’s remark evoked +curiosity.</p> +<p>“Because Mr. Winter is a most excellent officer, whose +intellect is shackled by handcuffs. ‘De +l’audace!’ says the Frenchman, as a specific for human +conduct. ‘Lock ’em up,’ says Mr. Winter, when he +is inquiring into a crime. Of course, he is right nine times out of +ten; but if, in the tenth case, intellect conflicts with handcuffs, +the handcuffs win, being stronger in his instance.”</p> +<p>Hume was in no mood to appreciate the humours of Scotland Yard, +so the other continued:</p> +<p>“The most telling point against you was the fact that not +only the butler, footman, and two housemaids, but you yourself, at +the coroner’s inquest, swore that the small Japanese knife +was in its sheath during the afternoon; indeed, the footman said it +was there, to the best of his belief, at midnight. Then, again, a +small drawer in Sir Alan’s writing-table had been wrenched +open whilst you were alone in the room. On this point the footman +was positive. Near the drawer rested the sword from which its +viperish companion had been abstracted. Had not the butler found +Sir Alan’s body, still palpitating, and testified beyond any +manner of doubt that you were apparently sleeping in the library, +you would have been hanged, Mr. Hume.”</p> +<p>“Probably.”</p> +<p>“The air of probability attending your execution would +have been most convincing.”</p> +<p>“Is my case, then, so desperate?”</p> +<p>“You cannot be tried again, you know.”</p> +<p>“I do not mean that. I want to establish my innocence; to +compel society to reinstate me as a man profoundly wronged; above +all, to marry the woman I love.”</p> +<p>Brett amused himself by rapidly projecting several rings of +smoke through a large one.</p> +<p>“So you really are innocent?” he said, after a +pause.</p> +<p>David Hume rose from his chair, and reached for his hat, gloves, +and stick.</p> +<p>“You have crushed my remaining hope of +emancipation,” he exclaimed bitterly. “You have the +repute of being able to pluck the heart out of a mystery, Mr. +Brett, so when you assume that I am guilty—”</p> +<p>“I have assumed nothing of the kind. You seem to possess +the faculty of self-control. Kindly exercise it, and answer my +questions, Did you kill your cousin?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Who did kill him?”</p> +<p>“I do not know.”</p> +<p>“Do you suspect anybody?”</p> +<p>“Not in the remotest degree.”</p> +<p>“Did he kill himself?”</p> +<p>“That theory was discussed privately, but not brought +forward at the trial. Three doctors said it was not worthy of a +moment’s consideration.”</p> +<p>“Well, you need not shout your replies, and I would prefer +to see you comfortably seated, unless, of course, you feel more at +ease near the door.”</p> +<p>A trifle shamefacedly, Hume returned to his former position near +the fireplace—that shrine to which all the household gods do +reverence, even in the height of summer. It is impossible to +conceive the occupants of a room deliberately grouping themselves +without reference to the grate.</p> +<p>Brett placed the open scrap-book on his knees, and ran an index +finger along underlined passages in the manner of counsel +consulting a brief.</p> +<p>“Why did you give your cousin this sword?”</p> +<p>“Because he told me he was making a collection of Japanese +arms, and I remarked that my grandfather on my mother’s side, +Admiral Cunningham, had brought this weapon, with others, from the +Far East. It lay for fifty years in our gun-room at Glen +Tochan.”</p> +<p>“So you met Sir Alan soon after his return +home?”</p> +<p>“Yes, in London, the day he arrived. Came to town on +purpose, in fact. Afterwards I travelled North, and he went to +Beechcroft.”</p> +<p>“How long afterwards? Be particular as to +dates.”</p> +<p>“It is quite a simple matter, owing to the season. Alan +reached Charing Cross from Brindisi on December 20. We remained +together—that is, lived at the same hotel, paid calls in +company, visited the same restaurants, went to the same +theatres—until the night of the 23rd, when we parted. It is a +tradition of my family that the members of it should spend +Christmas together.”</p> +<p>“A somewhat unusual tradition in Scotland, is it +not?”</p> +<p>“Yes, but it was my mother’s wish, so my father and +I keep the custom up.”</p> +<p>“Your father is still living?”</p> +<p>“Yes, thank goodness!”</p> +<p>“He is now the sixth baronet?”</p> +<p>“He is not. Neither he nor I will assume the title while +the succession bears the taint of crime.”</p> +<p>“Did you quarrel with your cousin in London?”</p> +<p>“Not by word or thought. He seemed to be surprised when I +told him of my engagement to Helen, but he warmly congratulated me. +One afternoon he was a trifle short-tempered, but not with +me.”</p> +<p>“Tell me about this.”</p> +<p>“His sister is, or was then, a rather rapid young lady. +She discovered that certain money-lenders would honour her drafts +on her brother, and she had been going the pace somewhat heavily. +Alan went to see her, told her to stop this practice, and sent +formal notice to the same effect through his solicitors to the bill +discounters. It annoyed him, not on account of the money, but that +his sister should act in such a way,”</p> +<p>“Ah, this is important! It was not mentioned at the +trial.”</p> +<p>“Why should it be?”</p> +<p>“Who can say? I wish to goodness I had helped your butler +to raise Sir Alan’s lifeless body. But about this family +dispute. Was there a scene—tears, recriminations?”</p> +<p>“Not a bit. You don’t know Rita. We used to call her +Rita because, as boys, we teased her by saying her name was +Margharita, and not Margaret”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“She has such a foreign manner and style.”</p><p> +“How did she acquire them?”</p> +<p>“She was a big girl, six years old, and tall for her age, +when her parents settled down in England. She first spoke Italian, +and picked up Italian ways from her nurse, an old party who was +devotedly attached to her. Even Alan was a good Italian linguist, +and given to foreign manners when a little chap. But Harrow soon +knocked them out of him. Rita retained them.”</p> +<p>“I see. A curious household. I should have expected this +young lady to upbraid her brother after the style of the prima +donna in grand opera.”</p> +<p>“No. He told me she laughed at him, and invited him to +witness the trying on of a fancy dress costume, the ‘Queen of +Night,’ which she wore at a <em>bal masqué</em> the +night he was murdered.”</p> +<p>“When did she get married?”</p> +<p>“Last January, at Naples, very suddenly, and without the +knowledge of any of her relatives.”</p> +<p>“She had been living at Beechcroft nearly a year, +then?”</p> +<p>“Yes, she went South in the winter. The reason she gave +was that the Hall would be depressing on the anniversary of her +brother’s death. She had become most popular in the district. +Helen is very fond of her, and was quite shocked to hear of her +marriage. The local people do not like Signor Capella.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“It is difficult to give a reason. Miss Layton does not +indulge in details, but that is the impression I gather from her +letters.”</p> +<p>Hume paused, and Brett shot a quick glance at him.</p> +<p>“Finish what you were going to say,” he said.</p> +<p>“Only this—Helen and I have mutually released each +other from our engagement, and in the same breath have refused to +be released. That is, if you understand—”</p> +<p>The barrister nodded.</p> +<p>“The result is that we are both thoroughly miserable. Our +respective fathers do not like the idea of our marriage under the +circumstances. We are simply drifting in the feeble hope that some +day a kindly Providence will dissipate the cloud that hangs over +me. Ah, Mr. Brett, I am a rich man. Command the limits of my +fortune, but clear me. Prove to Helen that her faith in my +innocence is justified.”</p> +<p>“For goodness’ sake light another cigarette,” +snapped the barrister. “You have interfered with my line of +thought. It is all wriggly.”</p> +<p>Quite a minute elapsed before he began again.</p> +<p>“What caused the trouble at Mrs. Eastham’s +ball?”</p> +<p>“I think I can explain that. It seems that Alan’s +father told him to get married—”</p> +<p>“Told him!”</p> +<p>“Well, left instructions.”</p> +<p>“How?”</p> +<p>“I do not know. I only gathered as much from my +cousin’s remarks. Well, it was not until his final +home-coming that he realised what a beautiful woman the jolly +little girl he knew as a boy had developed into. She was just the +kind of wife he wanted, and I fancy he imagined I had stolen a +march on him. But he was a thoroughly straightforward, manly +fellow, and something very much out of the common must have upset +him before he vented his anger on me and Helen.”</p> +<p>“Have you any notion—”</p> +<p>“Not the least. Pardon me. I suppose you were going to ask +if I guessed the cause?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“It is quite unfathomable. We parted the best of friends +in London, although he knew all about the engagement. We met again +at 6 p.m. on New Year’s Eve, and he was very short with me. I +can only vaguely assume that some feeling of resentment had +meanwhile been working up in him, and it found expression during +his chat with Helen in the conservatory.”</p> +<p>“Did you use threats to him during the subsequent +wrangle?”</p> +<p>“Threats! Good gracious, no. I was angry with him for +spoiling Miss Layton’s enjoyment. I called him an ass, and +said that he had better have remained away another year than come +back and make mischief. That is all. Mrs. Eastham was far more +outspoken.”</p> +<p>“Indeed. What did she say?”</p> +<p>“She hinted that his temper was a reminiscence of his +Southern birth, always a sore point with him, and contrasted me +with him, to his disadvantage. All very unfair, of course, but, you +see, she was the hostess, and Alan had upset her party very +much.”</p> +<p>“So you walked home, and resolved to hold out the olive +branch?”</p> +<p>“Most decidedly. I was older, perhaps a trifle more +sedate. I knew that Helen loved me. There were no difficulties in +the way of our marriage, which was arranged for the following +spring. Indeed, my second trial took place on the very date we had +selected. It was my duty to use poor Alan gently. Even his foolish +and unreasonable jealousy was a compliment.”</p> +<p>Brett threw the scrap-book on to the table. He clasped his hands +in front of his knees, tucking his heels on the edge of his +chair.</p> +<p>“Mr. Hume,” he said slowly, gazing fixedly at the +other, “I believe you. You did not kill your +cousin.”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_III" id="Ch_III">Chapter III</a></h3> +<h2>The Dream</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>“Thank you,” was the quiet answer.</p> +<p>“You hinted at some supernatural influence in relation to +this crime. What did you mean?”</p> +<p>“Ah, that is the unpublished part of the affair. We are a +Scots family, as our name implies. The first Sir Alan Frazer became +a baronet owing to his services to King George during the ’45 +Rebellion. There was some trouble about a sequestered +estate—now our place in Scotland—which belonged to his +wife’s brother, a Hume and a rebel. Anyhow, in 1763, he +fought a duel with Hume’s son, his own nephew by marriage, +and was killed.”</p> +<p>“Really,” broke in Brett, “this ancient +history—”</p> +<p>“Is quite to the point. Sir Alan the first fought and died +in front of the library at Beechcroft.”</p> +<p>The barrister commenced to study the moulding in the centre of +the ceiling.</p> +<p>“He was succeeded by his grandson, a little lad of eight. +In 1807, after a heavy drinking bout, the second Sir Alan +Hume-Frazer cut his throat, and chose the scene of his +ancestor’s duel for the operation.”</p> +<p>“A remarkable coincidence!”</p> +<p>“In 1842, during a bread riot, the third baronet was +stabbed with a pitchfork whilst facing a mob in the same place. +Then a long interval occurred. Again a small child became the heir. +Three years ago the fourth baronet expired whilst the library +windows were being opened to admit the litter on which he was +carried from the hunting-field. The fate of the fifth you +know.”</p> +<p>Brett’s chair emitted a series of squeaks as he urged it +closer to the wall. At the proper distance he stretched out his leg +and pressed an electric bell with his toe.</p> +<p>“Decanters and syphons, Smith,” he cried, when the +door opened.</p> +<p>“Which do you take, whisky or brandy, Mr. Hume?” he +inquired.</p> +<p>“Whisky. But I assure you I am quite serious. These +things—”</p> +<p>“Serious! If my name were Hume-Frazer, nothing less than a +runaway steam-engine would take me to Beechcroft. I have never +previously heard such a marvellous recital.”</p> +<p>“We are a stiff-necked race. My uncle and cousin knew how +strangely Fate had pursued every heir to the title, yet each hoped +that in his person the tragic sequence would be broken. Oddly +enough, my father holds that the family curse, or whatever it is, +has now exhausted itself.”</p> +<p>“What grounds has he for the belief?”</p> +<p>“None, save a Highlander’s readiness to accept signs +and portents. Look at this seal.”</p> +<p>He unfastened from his waistcoat his watch and chain, with a +small bunch of pendants attached, and handed them to Brett. The +latter examined the seal with deep interest. It was cut into a +bloodstone, and showed a stag’s head, surmounted by five +pointed rays, like a crown of daggers.</p> +<p>“I cannot decipher the motto,” he said; “what +is it?”</p> +<p>“Fortis et audax.”</p> +<p>“Hum! ‘Strong and bold.’ A stiff-necked +legend, too.”</p> +<p>He reached to his bookcase for Burke’s “General +Armoury.” After a brief search, he asked:</p> +<p>“Do you know anything about heraldry?”</p> +<p>“Nothing whatever.”</p> +<p>“Then listen to this. The crest of your, house is: +‘A stag’s head, erased argent, charged with a star of +five rays gules.’ It is peculiar.”</p> +<p>“Yes, so my father says; but why does it appeal to you in +that way?”</p> +<p>“Because ‘erased’ means, in this instance, a +stag’s head torn forcibly from the body, the severed part +being jagged like the teeth of a saw. And ‘gules’ means +‘red.’ Now, such heraldic rays are usually azure or +blue.”</p> +<p>“By Jove, you have hit upon the old man’s idea. He +contends that those five blood-coloured points signify the founder +of the baronetcy and his four lineal descendants. Moreover, the +race is now extinct in the direct succession. The title goes to a +collateral branch.”</p> +<p>Brett stroked his chin thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“It is certainly very strange,” he murmured, +“that the dry-as-dust knowledge of some member of the College +of Heralds should evolve these armorial bearings with their weird +significance. Does this account for your allusion to the +supernatural?”</p> +<p>“Partly. Do not forget my dream.”</p> +<p>“Tell it to me.”</p> +<p>“During the trials, my counsel, a very able man, by the +way—you know him, of course, Mr. Dobbie, K.C.—only +referred to the fact that I dreamed my cousin was in some mortal +danger, and that my exclamation ‘He is murdered!’ was +really a startled comment on my part induced by the butler’s +words. That is not correct. I never told Mr. Dobbie the details of +my dream, or vision.”</p> +<p>“Oh, didn’t you? Men have been hanged before to-day +because they thought they could construct a better line of defence +than their counsel.”</p> +<p>“I had nothing to defend. I was innocent. Moreover, I knew +I should not be convicted.”</p> +<p>The barrister well remembered the view of the case taken by the +Bar mess. Even the redoubtable Dobbie was afraid of the jury. His +face must have conveyed dubiety with respect to Hume’s last +remark, for the other continued eagerly:</p> +<p>“It is quite true. Wait until I have concluded. After the +footman brought the whisky and soda to the library that night I +took a small quantity, and pulled an easy-chair in front of the +fire. I was tired, having travelled all the preceding night and +part of the day. Hence the warmth and comfort soon sent me to +sleep. I have a hazy recollection of the man coming in to put some +coal on the fire. In a sub-conscious fashion I knew that it was not +my cousin, but a servant. I settled down a trifle more comfortably, +and everything became a blank. Then I thought I awoke. I looked out +through the windows, and, to my astonishment, it was broad +daylight. The trees, too, were covered with leaves, the sun was +shining, and there was every evidence of a fine day in early +summer. In some indefinite way I realised that the library was no +longer the room which I knew. The furniture and carpets were +different. The books were old-fashioned. A very handsome +spinning-wheel stood near the open window. There was no litter of +newspapers or magazines.</p> +<p>“Before I could begin to piece together these curious +discrepancies in the normal condition of things, I saw two men +riding up the avenue, where the yew trees, by the way, were loftier +and finer in every way than those really existing. The horsemen +were dressed in such strange fashion that, unfortunately, I paid +little heed to their faces. They wore frilled waistcoats, +redingotes with huge lapels and turned-back cuffs, three-cornered +hats, and gigantic boots. They dismounted when close to the house. +One man held both horses; the other advanced. I was just going to +look him straight in the face when another figure appeared, coming +from that side of the hall where the entrance is situated. This was +a gentleman in very elegant garments, hatless, with powdered queue, +pink satin coat embroidered with lace, pink satin small-clothes, +white silk stockings, and low shoes. As he walked, a smart cane +swung from his left wrist by a silk tassel, and he took a pinch of +snuff from an ivory box.</p> +<p>“The two men met and seemed to have a heated argument, +bitter and passionate on one side, studiously scornful on the +other. This was all in dumb show. Not a word did I hear. My amazed +wits were fully taken up with noting their clothes, their postures, +the trappings of the horses, the eighteenth century aspect of the +library. Strange, is it not, I did not look at their +faces?”</p> +<p>Hume paused to gulp down the contents of his tumbler. Brett said +not a word, but sat intent, absorbed, wondering, with eyes fixed on +the speaker.</p> +<p>“All at once the dispute became vehement. The more +stylishly attired man disappeared, but returned instantly with a +drawn sword in his hand. The stranger, as we may call him, whipped +out a claymore, and the two fought fiercely. By Jove, it was no +stage combat or French duel. They went for each other as if they +meant it. There was no stopping to take breath, nor drawing apart +after a foiled attack. Each man tried to kill the other as speedily +as possible. Three times they circled round in furious sword-play. +Then the stranger got his point home. The other, in mortal agony, +dropped his weapon, and tried with both hands to tear his +adversary’s blade from his breast. He failed, and staggered +back, the victor still shoving the claymore through his +opponent’s body. Then, and not until then, I saw the face of +the man who was wounded, probably killed. It was my cousin, Alan +Hume-Fraser.”</p> +<p>David Hume stopped again. His bronzed face was pale now. With +his left hand he swept huge drops of perspiration from his brow. +But his class demands coolness in the most desperate moments. He +actually struck a match and relighted his cigarette.</p> +<p>“I suppose you occasionally have a nightmare after an +indigestible supper, Mr. Brett,” he went on, “and have +experienced a peculiar sensation of dumb palsy in the presence of +some unknown but terrifying danger? Well, such was my exact state +at that moment. Alan fell, apparently lifeless. The stranger kissed +his blood-stained sword, which required a strong tug before he +could disengage it, rattled it back into the scabbard, rejoined his +companion, and the two rode off, without once looking back. I can +see them now, square-shouldered, with hair tied in a knot beneath +their quaint hats, their hips absurdly swollen by the huge pockets +of their coats, their boots hanging over their knees. They wore big +brass spurs with tremendous rowels, and the cantles of their +saddles were high and brass-bound.</p> +<p>“Alan lay motionless. I could neither speak nor move. +Whether I was sitting or standing I cannot tell you, nor do I know +how I was supposed to be attired. A darkness came over my eyes. +Then a voice—Helen’s voice—whispered to me, +‘Fear not, dearest; the wrong is avenged.’ I awoke, to +find the trembling butler shouting in my ear that his master was +lying dead outside the house. Now, Mr. Brett, I ask you, would you +have submitted that fairy tale to a jury? I was quite assured of a +verdict in my favour, though the first disagreement almost shook my +faith in Helen’s promise, but I did not want to end my days +in a criminal lunatic asylum.”</p> +<p>He did not appear to expect an answer. He was quite calm again, +and even his eyes had lost their intensity. The mere telling of his +uncanny experience had a soothing effect. He nonchalantly +readjusted his watch and chain, and noted the time.</p> +<p>“I have gone far beyond my stipulated half hour,” he +said, forcing a deprecatory smile.</p> +<p>“Yes; far beyond, indeed. You carried me back to 1763, but +Heaven alone knows when you will end.”</p> +<p>“Will you take up my case?”</p> +<p>“Can you doubt it? Do you think I would throw aside the +most remarkable criminal puzzle I have ever tackled?”</p> +<p>“Mr. Brett, I cannot find words to thank you. If you +succeed—and you inspire me with confidence—Helen and I +will strive to merit your lifelong friendship.”</p> +<p>“Miss Layton knows the whole of your story, of +course?”</p> +<p>“Yes; she and my father only. I must inform you that I had +never heard the full reason of the duel between the first Sir Alan +and his nephew. But my father knew it fairly well, and the details +fitted in exactly with my vision. I can hardly call it a +dream.”</p> +<p>“What was the nephew’s name?”</p> +<p>“David Hume!”</p> +<p>Brett jumped up, and paced about the room.</p> +<p>“These coincidences defy analysis,” he exclaimed. +“Your Christian name is David. Your surname joins both +families. Why, the thing is a romance of the wildest +sort.”</p> +<p>“Unhappily, it has a tragic side for me.”</p> +<p>“Yes; the story cannot end here. You and your +<em>fiancée</em> have suffered. Miss Layton must be a very +estimable young lady—one worth winning. She will be a true +and loyal wife.”</p> +<p>“Do you think you will be able to solve the riddle? +Someone murdered my cousin.”</p> +<p>“That is our only solid fact at present. The family +tradition is passing strange, but it will not serve in a court of +law. I may fail, for the first time, but I will try hard. When can +you accompany me to Stowmarket?”</p> +<p>The question disconcerted his eager auditor. The young +man’s countenance clouded.</p> +<p>“Is it necessary that I should go there?” he +asked.</p> +<p>“Certainly. You must throw aside all delicacy of feeling, +sacrifice even your own sentiments. That is the one locality where +you don’t wish to be seen, of course?”</p> +<p>“It is indeed.”</p> +<p>“I cannot help that. I must have the assistance of your +local and family knowledge to decide the knotty points sure to +arise when I begin the inquiry. Can you start this +afternoon?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Very well. Come and lunch with me at my club. Then we +will separate, to meet again at Liverpool Street. Smith! Pack my +traps for a week.”</p> +<p>Brett was in the hall now, but he suddenly stopped his +companion.</p> +<p>“By the way, Hume, you may like to wire to Miss Layton. My +man will send the telegram for you.”</p> +<p>David Hume’s barrier of proud reserve vanished from that +instant. The kindly familiarity of the barrister’s words to +one who, during many weary days, suspected all men of loathing him +as a murderer at large, was directed by infinite tact.</p> +<p>Hume held out his hand, “You <em>are</em> a good +chap,” he said.</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_IV" id="Ch_IV">Chapter IV</a></h3> +<h2>Through the Library Window</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Hume did not send a telegram to the Sleagill Rectory. He +explained that, owing to the attitude adopted by the Rev. +Wilberforce Layton, Helen avoided friction with her father by +receiving his (Hume’s) letters under cover to Mrs. +Eastham.</p> +<p>The younger man was quick to note that Brett did not like this +arrangement. He smilingly protested that there was no deception in +the matter.</p> +<p>“Helen would never consent to anything that savoured of +subterfuge,” he explained. “Her father knows well that +she hears from me constantly. He is a studious, reserved old +gentleman. He was very much shocked by the tragedy, and his +daughter’s innocent association with it. He told me quite +plainly that, under the circumstances, I ought to consider the +engagement at an end. Possibly I resented an imputation not +intended by him. I made some unfair retort about his +hyper-sensitiveness, and promptly sent Helen a formal release. She +tore it up, and at the same time accepted it so far as I was +concerned. We met at Mrs. Eastham’s house—that good +lady has remained my firm friend throughout—and I don’t +mind telling you, Brett, that I broke down utterly. Well, we began +by sending messages to each other through Mrs. Eastham. Then I +forwarded to Helen, in the same way, a copy of a rough diary of my +travels. She wrote to me direct; I replied. The position now is +that she will not marry me without her father’s consent, and +she will marry no one else. He is aware of our correspondence. She +always tells him of my movements. The poor old rector is worried to +know how to act for the best. His daughter’s happiness is at +stake, and so my unhappy affairs have drifted aimlessly for more +than a year.”</p> +<p>“The drifting must cease,” said Brett decisively. +“Beechcroft Hall will probably provide scope for +activity.”</p> +<p>They reached Stowmarket by a late train. Next morning they drove +to Sleagill—a pretty village, with a Norman church tower +standing squarely in the midst of lofty trees, and white-washed +cottages and red-tiled villa-residences nestling in gardens.</p> +<p>“A bower of orchards and green lanes,” murmured the +barrister as their dog-cart sped rapidly over the smooth +highway.</p> +<p>Hume was driving. He pointed out the rectory. His eyes were +eagerly searching the lawn and the well-trimmed garden, but he was +denied a sight of his divinity. The few people they encountered +gazed at them curiously. Hume was seemingly unrecognised.</p> +<p>“Here is Mrs. Eastham’s house,” he said, +checking the horse’s pace as they approached a roomy, +comfortable-looking mansion, occupying an angle where the village +street sharply bifurcated. “And there is +Beechcroft!”</p> +<p>The lodge faced the road along which they were advancing. Beyond +the gates the yew-lined drive, with its selvages of deep green +turf, led straight to the Elizabethan house a quarter of a mile +distant. The ground in the rear rose gently through a mile or more +of the home park.</p> +<p>Immediately behind the Hall was a dense plantation of spruce and +larch. The man who planned the estate evidently possessed both +taste and spirit. It presented a beautiful and pleasing picture. A +sense of homeliness was given by a number of Alderney cattle and +young hunters grazing in the park on both sides of the avenue. +Beechcroft had a reputation in metropolitan sale-rings. Its +two-year-olds were always in demand.</p> +<p>“We will leave the conveyance here,” announced Brett +“I prefer to walk to the house.”</p> +<p>The hotel groom went to the horse’s head. He did not hear +the barrister’s question:</p> +<p>“I suppose both you and your cousin quitted Mrs. +Eastham’s house by that side-door and entered the park +through the wicket?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” assented Hume, “though I fail to see +why you should hit upon the side-door rather than the main +entrance.”</p> +<p>“Because the ball-room is built out at the back. It was +originally a granary. The conservatory opens into the garden on the +other side. As there was a large number of guests, Mrs. Eastham +required all her front rooms for supper and extra servants, so she +asked people to halt their carriages at the side-door. I would not +be surprised if the gentlemen’s cloak-room was provided by +the saddle-room there, whilst the yard was carpeted and covered +with an awning.”</p> +<p>Brett rattled on in this way, heedless of his companion’s +blank amazement, perhaps secretly enjoying it.</p> +<p>Hume was so taken aback that he stood poised on the step of the +vehicle and forgot to slip the reins into the catch on the +splashboard.</p> +<p>“I told you none of these things,” he cried.</p> +<p>“Of course not. They are obvious. But tell this good lady +that we are going to the Hall.”</p> +<p>Both the main gate and wicket were fastened, and the +lodge-keeper’s wife was gazing at them through the bars.</p> +<p>“Hello, Mrs. Crowe, don’t you know me?” cried +Hume.</p> +<p>“My gracious, It’s Mr. David!” gasped the +woman.</p> +<p>“Why are the gates locked?”</p> +<p>“Mrs. Capella is not receiving visitors, sir.”</p> +<p>“Is she ill?”</p> +<p>“No, sir. Indisposed, I think Mr. Capella said.”</p> +<p>“Well, she will receive me, at any rate.”</p> +<p>“No doubt, sir, it will be all right.”</p> +<p>She hesitatingly unbarred the wicket, and the two men entered. +They walked slowly up the drive. Hume was restless. Twice he looked +behind him.</p> +<p>He stopped.</p> +<p>“It was here,” he said, “that the two men +dismounted.”</p> +<p>Then a few yards farther on:</p> +<p>“Alan came round from the door there, and they fought +here. Alan forced the stranger on to the turf. When he was stabbed +he fell here.”</p> +<p>He pointed to a spot where the road commenced to turn to the +left to clear the house. Brett watched him narrowly. The young man +was describing his dream, not the actual murder. The vision was far +more real to him.</p> +<p>“It was just such a day as this,” he continued. +“It might have been almost this hour. The library +windows—”</p> +<p>He ceased and looked fixedly towards the house. Brett, too, +gazed in silence. They saw a small, pale-faced, exceedingly +handsome Italian—a young man, with coal-black eyes and a mass +of shining black hair—scowling at them from within the +library.</p> +<p>A black velvet coat and a brilliant tie were the only bizarre +features of his costume. They served sufficiently to enhance his +foreign appearance. Such a man would be correctly placed in the +marble frame of a Neapolitan villa; here he was unusual, +<em>outré</em>, “un-English,” as Brett put +it.</p> +<p>But he was evidently master. He flung open the window, and said, +with some degree of hauteur:</p> +<p>“Whom do you wish to see? Can I be of any +assistance?”</p> +<p>His accent was strongly marked, but his words were well chosen +and civil enough, had his tone accorded with their sense. As it +was, he might be deemed rude.</p> +<p>Brett advanced.</p> +<p>“Are you Signor Capella?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“Mr. Capella. Yes.”</p> +<p>“Then you can, indeed, be of much assistance. This +gentleman is Mrs. Capella’s cousin, Mr. David +Hume-Frazer.”</p> +<p>“Corpo di Baccho!”</p> +<p>The Italian was completely taken by surprise. His eyebrows +suddenly stood out in a ridge. His sallow skin could not become +more pallid; to show emotion he flushed a swarthy red. Beyond the +involuntary exclamation in his own language, he could not find +words.</p> +<p>“Yes,” explained the smiling Brett, “he is a +near relative of yours by marriage. We were told by the +lodge-keeper that Mrs. Capella was indisposed, but under the +circumstances we felt assured that she would receive her +cousin—unless, that is, she is seriously ill.”</p> +<p>“It is an unexpected pleasure, this visit.”</p> +<p>Capella replied to the barrister, but looked at Hume. He had an +unpleasant habit of parting his lips closely to his teeth, like the +silent snarl of a dog.</p> +<p>“Undoubtedly. We both apologise for not having prepared +you.”</p> +<p>Brett’s smooth, even voice seemed to exasperate the other, +who continued to block the library window in uncompromising +manner.</p> +<p>“And you, sir. May I ask who you are?”</p> +<p>“My name is Brett, Reginald Brett, a friend of Mr. +Hume’s—who, I may mention, does not use his full +surname at present.”</p> +<p>The Italian was compelled to turn his glittering eyes upon the +man who addressed him so glibly.</p> +<p>“I am sorry,” he said slowly, “but Mrs. +Capella is too unwell to meet either of you to-day.”</p> +<p>“Ah! We share your regrets. Nevertheless, as a preliminary +to our purpose, you will serve our needs equally well. May we not +come in?”</p> +<p>Capella was faced with difficult alternatives. He must either be +discourteous to two gentlemanly strangers, one of them his +wife’s relative, or admit them with some show of politeness. +An Italian may be rude, he can never be <em>gauche</em>. Having +decided, Capella ushered them into the library with quick +transition to dignified ease.</p> +<p>He asked if he might ring for any refreshments. Hume, who glared +at his host with uncompromising hostility, and had not taken any +part in the conversation, shook his head.</p> +<p>Brett surprised both, for different reasons, by readily falling +in with Capella’s suggestion.</p> +<p>“A whisky and soda would be most grateful,” he +said.</p> +<p>The Italian moved towards the bell.</p> +<p>“Permit me!” cried Brett.</p> +<p>He rose in awkward haste, and upset his chair with a loud crash +on the parquet floor.</p> +<p>“How stupid of me!” he exclaimed, whilst Hume +wondered what had happened to flurry the barrister, and Capella +smothered a curse.</p> +<p>A distant bell jangled. By tacit consent, there was no further +talk until a servant appeared. The man was a stranger to Hume.</p> +<p>Oddly enough, Brett took but a very small allowance of the +spirit. In reality, he hated alcohol in any form during the earlier +hours. He was wont to declare that it not only disturbed his +digestion but destroyed his taste for tobacco. Hume did not yet +know what a concession to exciting circumstances his new-found +friend had made the previous day in ordering spirits before +luncheon.</p> +<p>When the servant vanished, Capella settled himself in his chair +with the air of a man awaiting explanations. Yet he was restless +and disturbed. He was afraid of these two. Why? Brett determined to +try the effect of generalities.</p> +<p>“You probably guess the object of our visit?” he +began.</p> +<p>“I? No. How should I guess?”</p> +<p>“As the husband of a lady so closely connected with Mr. +Hume—”</p> +<p>But the Italian seemed to be firmly resolved to end the +suspense.</p> +<p>“Caramba!” he broke in. “What is +it?”</p> +<p>“It is this. Mr. Hume has asked me to help him in the +investigation of certain—”</p> +<p>The library door swung open, and a lady entered. She was tall, +graceful, distinguished-looking. Her cousinship to Hume was +unmistakable. In both there was the air of aristocratic birth. +Their eyes, the contour of their faces, were alike. But the fresh +Anglo-Saxon complexion of the man was replaced in the woman by a +peach-like skin, whilst her hair and eyebrows were darker.</p> +<p>She was strikingly beautiful. A plain black dress set off a +figure that would have caused a sculptor to dream of chiselled +marble.</p> +<p>“A passionate, voluptuous woman,” thought Brett. +“A woman easily swayed, but never to be compelled, the +ready-made heroine of a tragedy.”</p> +<p>Her first expression was one of polite inquiry, but her glance +fell upon Hume. Her face, prone to betray each fleeting emotion, +exhibited surprise, almost consternation.</p> +<p>“You, Davie!” she gasped.</p> +<p>Hume went to meet her.</p> +<p>“Yes, Rita,” he said. “I hope you are glad to +see me.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Capella was profoundly agitated, but she held out her hand +and summoned the quick smile of an actress.</p> +<p>“Of course I am,” she cried. “I did not know +you were in England. Why did you not let me know, and why are you +here?”</p> +<p>“I only returned home three days ago. My journey to +Beechcroft was a hasty resolve. This is my friend, Mr. Reginald +Brett. He was just about to explain to Mr. Capella the object of +our visit when you came in.”</p> +<p>Neither husband nor wife looked at the other. Mrs. Capella was +flustered, indulging in desperate surmises, but she laughed readily +enough.</p> +<p>“I heard a noise in this room, and then the bell rang. I +thought something had happened. You know—I mean, I thought +there was no one here.”</p> +<p>“I fear that I am the culprit, Mrs. Capella. Your husband +was good enough to invite us to enter by the window, and I promptly +disturbed the household.”</p> +<p>Brett’s pleasant tones came as a relief. Capella glared at +him now with undisguised hostility, for the barrister’s +adroit ruse had outwitted him by bringing the lady from the +drawing-room, which gave on to the garden and lawn at the back of +the house.</p> +<p>“Please do not take the blame of my intrusion, Mr. +Brett,” said Margaret, with forced composure. “You will +stay for luncheon, will you not? And you, Davie? Are you at Mrs. +Eastham’s?”</p> +<p>Her concluding question was eager, almost wistful. Her cousin +answered it first.</p> +<p>“No,” he said. “We have driven over from +Stowmarket.”</p> +<p>“And, unfortunately,” put in the barrister, +“we are pledged to visit Mrs. Eastham within an +hour.”</p> +<p>The announcement seemed to please Mrs. Capella, for some reason +at present hidden from Brett. Hume, of course, was mystified by the +course taken by his friend, but held his peace.</p> +<p>Capella brusquely interfered:</p> +<p>“Perhaps, Rita, these gentlemen would now like to make the +explanation which you prevented.”</p> +<p>He moved towards the door. So that his wife could rest under no +doubt as to his wishes, he held it open for her.</p> +<p>“No, no!” exclaimed Brett. “This matter +concerns Mrs. Capella personally. You probably forget that we asked +to be allowed to see her in the first instance, but you told us +that she was too unwell to receive us.”</p> +<p>For an instant Margaret gazed at the Italian with imperious +scorn. Then she deliberately turned her back on him, and seated +herself close to her cousin.</p> +<p>Capella closed the door and walked to the library window.</p> +<p>Hume openly showed his pained astonishment at this little scene. +Brett treated the incident as a domestic commonplace.</p> +<p>“The fact is,” he explained, “that your +cousin, Mrs. Capella, has sought my assistance in order to clear +his name of the odium attached to it by the manner of Sir Alan +Hume-Frazer’s death. At my request he brought me here. In +this house, in this very room, such an inquiry should have its +origin, wherever it may lead ultimately.”</p> +<p>The lady’s cheeks became ashen. Her large eyes +dilated.</p> +<p>“Is not that terrible business ended yet?” she +cried. “I little dreamed that such could be the object of +your visit, Davie. What has happened—”</p> +<p>The Italian swung round viciously.</p> +<p>“If you come here as a detective, Mr. Brett,” he +snapped, “I refer you to the police. Mr. Hume-Frazer is known +to them.”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_V" id="Ch_V">Chapter V</a></h3> +<h2>From Behind the Hedge</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>The man’s swarthy rage added force to the taunt. David +Hume leaped up, but Brett anticipated him, gripping his arm firmly, +and without ostentation.</p> +<p>Margaret, too, had risen. She appeared to be battling with some +powerful emotion, choking back a fierce impulse. For an instant the +situation was electrical. Then the woman’s clear tones rang +through the room.</p> +<p>“I am mistress here,” she cried, “Giovanni, +remain silent or leave us. How dare you, of all men, speak thus to +my cousin?”</p> +<p>Certainly the effect of the barrister’s straightforward +statement was unlooked-for. But Brett felt that a family quarrel +would not further his object at that moment. It was necessary to +stop the imminent outburst, for David Hume and Giovanni Capella +were silently challenging each other to mortal combat. What a place +of ill-omen to the descendants of the Georgian baronet was this +sun-lit library with its spacious French windows!</p> +<p>“Of course,” said the barrister, speaking as quietly +as if he were discussing the weather, “such a topic is an +unpleasant one. It is, however, unavoidable. My young friend here +is determined, at all costs, to discover the secret of Sir +Alan’s murder. It is imperative that he should do so. The +happiness of his whole life depends upon his success. Until that +mystery is solved he cannot marry the woman he loves.”</p> +<p>“Do you mean Helen Layton?” Margaret’s +syllables might have been so many mortal daggers.</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Is David still in love with her?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“And she with him?”</p> +<p>David Hume broke in:</p> +<p>“Yes, Rita. She has been faithful to the end.”</p> +<p>A very forcible Italian oath came from Capella as he passed +through the window and strode rapidly out of sight, passing to the +left of the house, where one of the lines of yew trees ended in a +group of conservatories.</p> +<p>Margaret was now deadly white. She pressed her hand to her +bosom.</p> +<p>“Forgive me,” she sobbed. “I do not feel well. +You will both be always welcome here. Let no one interfere with +you. But I must leave you. This afternoon—”</p> +<p>She staggered to the door. Her cousin caught her.</p> +<p>“Thank you, Davie,” she whispered. “Leave me +now. I will be all right soon. My heart troubles me. No. Do not +ring. Let us keep our miseries from the servants.”</p> +<p>She passed out, leaving Hume and the barrister uncertain how +best to act. The situation had developed with a vengeance. Brett was +more bewildered than ever before in his life.</p> +<p>“That scoundrel killed Alan, and now he wants to kill his +own wife!” growled Hume, when they were alone.</p> +<p>Brett looked through him rather than at him. He was thinking +intently. For a long time—minutes it seemed to his fuming +companion—he remained motionless, with glazed, immovable +eyes. Then he awoke to action.</p> +<p>“Quick!” he cried. “Tell me if this room has +changed much since you were last here. Is the furniture the same? +Is that the writing-table? What chair did you sit in? Where was it +placed? Quick, man! You have wasted eighteen months. Give me no +opinions, but facts.”</p> +<p>Thus admonished, scared somewhat by the barrister’s +volcanic energy, Hume obeyed him.</p> +<p>“There is no material change in the room,” he said. +“The secretaire is the same. You see, here is the drawer +which was broken open. It bears the marks of the implement used to +force the lock. I think I sat in this chair, or one like it. It was +placed here. My face was turned towards the fire, yet in my dream I +was looking through the centre window. The Japanese sword rested +here. I showed you where Alan’s body was found.”</p> +<p>The young man darted about the room to illustrate each sentence. +Brett followed his words and actions without comment. He grabbed +his hat and stick.</p> +<p>“We will return later in the day,” he said. +“Let us go at once and call on Mrs. Eastham.”</p> +<p>“Mrs. Eastham! Why?”</p> +<p>“Because I want to see Miss Helen Layton. The old lady can +send for her.”</p> +<p>Hume needed no urging. He could not walk fast enough. They had +gone a hundred yards from the house when Brett suddenly stopped and +checked his companion.</p> +<p>Behind the yew trees on the left, and rendered invisible by a +stout hedge, a man was running—running at top speed, with the +labouring breath of one unaccustomed to the exercise. The barrister +sprang over the strip of turf, passed among the trees, and plunged +into the hedge regardless of thorns. He came back instantly.</p> +<p>“There is a footpath across the park, leading towards the +lodge gates. Where does it come out?” he asked, speaking +rapidly in a low tone.</p> +<p>“It enters the road near the avenue, close to the gates. +It leads from a farmhouse.”</p> +<p>“A lady is walking through the park towards the lodge. +Capella is running to intercept her. Come! We may hear +something.”</p> +<p>Brett set off at a rapid pace along the turf. Hume followed, and +soon they were near the lodge. Mrs. Crowe saw them, and came +out.</p> +<p>“Stop her!” gasped Brett.</p> +<p>Hume signalled the woman not to open the gate. She watched them +with open-mouthed curiosity. The barrister slowed down and quietly +made his way to the leafy angle where the avenue hedge joined that +which shut off the park from the road.</p> +<p>He held up a warning hand. Hume stepped warily behind him, and +both men looked through a portion of the hedge where briars were +supplanted by hazel bushes.</p> +<p>Capella was standing panting near a stile. A girl, dressed in +muslin, and wearing a large straw hat, was approaching.</p> +<p>“Great Heavens! It is Helen!” exclaimed Hume.</p> +<p>Brett grasped his shoulder.</p> +<p>“Restrain yourself,” he whispered earnestly. +“Luckily, Capella has not heard you. I regret the necessity +which makes us eavesdroppers, but it is a fortunate accident, all +the same. Not a word! Remember what is at stake.”</p> +<p>They could not see the Italian’s face. His back was +heaving from the violence of his exertion. Miss Layton was walking +rapidly towards the stile. Obviously she had perceived the waiting +man, and she was not pleased.</p> +<p>Her pretty face, flushed and sunburnt, wore the strained aspect +of a woman annoyed, but trying to be civil.</p> +<p>It was she who took the initiative.</p> +<p>“Good day, Mr. Capella,” she said pleasantly. +“Why on earth did you run so fast?”</p> +<p>“Because I wished to be here before you, Miss +Layton,” replied the man, his voice tremulous with +excitement.</p> +<p>“Then I wish I had known, because I could have beaten you +easily if you meant to race me.”</p> +<p>“That was not my object.”</p> +<p>“Well, now you have attained it, whatever it may have +been, please allow me to get over the stile. I will be late for +luncheon. My father wished me to ascertain how Farmer Burton is +progressing after his spill. He was thrown from his dog-cart whilst +coming from the Bury St. Edmund’s fair.”</p> +<p>It was easy for the listeners behind the hedge to gather that +the girl’s affable manner was affected. She was really +somewhat alarmed. Her eyes wandered to the high road to see if +anyone was approaching, and she kept at some distance from the +Italian.</p> +<p>“Do not play with me, Nellie,” said Capella, in +agonised accents. “I am consumed with love of you. Can you +not, at least, give me your pity?”</p> +<p>“Mr. Capella,” she cried, and none but one blind to +all save his own passionate desires could fail to note her lofty +disdain, “how can you be so base as to use such language to +me?”</p> +<p>“Base! To love you!”</p> +<p>“Again I say it—base and unmanly. What have I done +that you should venture to so insult your charming wife, not to +speak of the insult to myself? When you so far forgot yourself a +fortnight ago as to hint at your outrageous ideas regarding me, I +forced myself to remember that you were not an Englishman, that +perhaps in your country there may be a social code which permits a +man to dishonour his home and to annoy a defenceless woman. I +cannot forgive you a second time. Let me pass! Let me pass, I tell +you, or I will strike you!”</p> +<p>Brett, in his admiration for the spirited girl who, +notwithstanding her protestations, seemed to be anything but +“defenceless,” momentarily forgot his companion.</p> +<p>A convulsive tightening of Hume’s muscles, preparatory to +a leap through the hedge, warned him in time.</p> +<p>“Idiot!” he whispered, as he clutched him again.</p> +<p>Were not the others so taken up with the throbbing influences of +the moment they must have heard the rustling of the leaves. But +they paid little heed to external affairs. The Italian was +speaking.</p> +<p>“Nellie,” he said, “you will drive me mad. But +listen, carissima. If I may not love you, I can at least defend +you. David Hume-Frazer, the man who murdered my wife’s +brother, has returned, and openly boasts that you are waiting to +marry him.”</p> +<p>“Boasts! To whom, pray?”</p> +<p>“To me. I heard him say this not fifteen minutes +since.”</p> +<p>“Where? You do not know him. He could not be here without +my knowledge.”</p> +<p>“Then it is true. You do intend to marry this unconvicted +felon?”</p> +<p>“Mr. Capella, I really think you are what English people +call ‘cracked.’”</p> +<p>“But you believe me—that this man has come to +Beechcroft?”</p> +<p>“It may be so. He has good reasons, doubtless, for keeping +his presence here a secret. Whatever they may be, I shall soon know +them.”</p> +<p>“Helen, he is not worthy of you. He cannot give you a love +fierce as mine. Nay, I will not be repelled. Hear me. My wife is +dying. I will be free in a few months. Bid me to hope. I will not +trouble you. I will go away, but I swear, if you marry Frazer, +neither he nor you will long enjoy your happiness!”</p> +<p>The girl made no reply, but sprang towards the stile in sheer +desperation. Capella strove to take her in his arms, not indeed +with intent to offer her any violence; but she met his lover-like +ardour with such a vigorous buffet that he lost his temper.</p> +<p>He caught her. She had almost surmounted the stile, but her +dress hampered her movements. The Italian, vowing his passion in an +ardent flow of words, endeavoured to kiss her.</p> +<p>Then, with a sigh, for he would have preferred to avoid an open +rupture, Brett let go his hold on Hume. Indeed, if he had not done +so, there must have been a fight on both sides of the hedge.</p> +<p>He turned away at once to light a cigarette. What followed +immediately had no professional interest for him.</p> +<p>But he could not help hearing Helen’s shriek of delighted +surprise, and certain other sounds which denoted that Giovanni was +being used as a football by his near relative by marriage.</p> +<p>Mrs. Crowe came out of her cottage.</p> +<p>“What’s a-goin’ on in the park, sir?” +she inquired anxiously.</p> +<p>“A great event,” he said. “Faust is kicking +Mephistopheles.”</p> +<p>“Drat them colts!” she cried, adding, after taking +thought; “but we haven’t any horses of them names, +sir.”</p> +<p>“No! You surprise me. They are of the best Italian +pedigree.”</p> +<p>Meanwhile, he was achieving his object, which was to drive Mrs. +Crowe back towards the wicket.</p> +<p>Helen’s voice came to them shrilly:</p> +<p>“That will do, Davie! Do you hear me?”</p> +<p>“Why, bless my ’eart, there’s Miss +Layton,” said Mrs. Crowe.</p> +<p>“What a fine little boy this is!” exclaimed Brett, +stooping over a curly-haired urchin. “Is he the +oldest?”</p> +<p>“Good gracious, sir, no. He’s the +youngest.”</p> +<p>“Dear me, I would not have thought so. You must have been +married very early. Here, my little man, see what you can buy for +half-a-crown.”</p> +<p>“What a nice gentleman he is, to be sure,” thought +the lodge-keeper’s wife, when Brett passed through the +smaller gate, assured that the struggle in the park had ended.</p> +<p>“Just fancy ’im a-thinkin’ Jimmy was the +eldest, when I will be a grandmother come August if all goes well +wi’ Kate.”</p> +<p>The barrister signed to the groom to wait, and joined the young +couple, who now appeared in the roadway. A haggard, dishevelled, +and furious man burst through the avenue hedge and ran across the +drive.</p> +<p>“Mrs. Crowe,” he almost screamed, “do you see +those two men there?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>The good woman was startled by her master’s sudden +appearance and his excited state.</p> +<p>“They are never to be admitted to the grounds again. Do +you understand?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>Capella turned to rush away up the avenue, but he was compelled +to limp. Mrs. Crowe watched him wonderingly, and tried to piece +together in her mind the queer sounds and occurrences of the last +two minutes.</p> +<p>She had not long been in the cottage when the butler +arrived.</p> +<p>“You let two gentlemen in a while ago?” he +said.</p> +<p>“I did.”</p> +<p>“One was Mr. David and the other a Mr. Brett?”</p> +<p>“Oh, was that the tall gentleman’s name?”</p> +<p>“I expect so. Well, here’s the missus’s +written order that whenever they want to come to the ’ouse or +go anywheres in the park it’s O.K.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Crowe was wise enough to keep her own counsel, but when the +butler retired, she said:</p> +<p>“Then I’ll obey the missus, an’ master can +settle it with her. I don’t hold by Eye-talians, +anyhow.”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_VI" id="Ch_VI">Chapter VI</a></h3> +<h2>An Old Acquaintance</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Helen was very much upset by the painful scene which had just +been enacted. Its vulgarity appalled her. In a little old-world +hamlet like Sleagill, a riotous cow or frightened horse supplied +sensation for a week. What would happen when it became known that +the rector’s daughter had been attacked by the Squire of +Beechcroft in the park meadow, and saved from his embraces only +after a vigorous struggle, in which her defender was David +Hume-Frazer, concerning whom the villagers still spoke with bated +breath?</p> +<p>Of course, the girl imagined that many people must have +witnessed the occurrence. The appearance of Brett, of the waiting +groom, and of a chance labourer who now strode up the village +street, led her to think so.</p> +<p>She did not realise that the whole affair had barely lasted a +minute, that Brett was Hume’s friend, the man-servant a +stranger who had seen nothing and heard little, whilst the villager +only wondered, when he touched his cap, “why Miss Layton was +so flustered like.”</p> +<p>Brett attributed her agitation to its right cause. He knew that +this healthy, high-minded, and athletic young woman went under no +fear of Capella and his ravings.</p> +<p>“What happened when you jumped the hedge?” he said +to Hume.</p> +<p>“I handled that scoundrel somewhat roughly,” was the +answer. “It was Nellie here who begged for mercy on his +account.”</p> +<p>“Ah, well, the incident ended very pleasantly. No one saw +what happened save the principals, a fortunate thing in itself. We +want to prevent a nine days’ wonder just now.”</p> +<p>“Are you quite sure?” asked Miss Layton, overjoyed +at this expression of opinion, and secretly surprised at the +interest taken by the barrister in the affair, for Hume had not as +yet found time to tell her his friend’s name.</p> +<p>“Quite sure, Miss Layton,” he said, with the smile +which made him such a prompt favourite with women. “I had +nothing to do but observe the <em>mise-en-scène</em>. The +stage was quite clear for the chief actors. And now, may I make a +suggestion? The longer we remain here the more likely are we to +attract observation. Mr. Hume and I are going to call on Mrs. +Eastham. May we expect you in an hour’s time?”</p> +<p>“Can’t you come in with us now?” exclaimed +David eagerly.</p> +<p>She laughed excitedly, being yet flurried. The sudden appearance +of her lover tried her nerves more than the Italian’s +passionate avowal.</p> +<p>“No, indeed,” she cried. “I must go home. My +father will forget all about his lunch otherwise, and I am +afraid—I—w—ant to cry!”</p> +<p>Without another word she hurried off towards the rectory.</p> +<p>“My dear fellow,” murmured Brett to the disconsolate +Hume, “don’t you understand? She cannot bear the +constraint imposed by my presence at this moment, nor could she +meet Mrs. Eastham with any degree of composure. Now, this afternoon +she will return a mere iceberg. Mrs. Eastham, I am sure, has tact. +I am going to the Hall. You two will be left alone for +hours.”</p> +<p>He turned aside to arrange with the groom concerning the care of +the horse, as they would be detained some time in the village. Then +the two men approached Mrs. Eastham’s residence.</p> +<p>That good person, a motherly old lady of over sixty, was not +only surprised but delighted by the advent of David Hume.</p> +<p>“My dear boy,” she cried, advancing to meet him with +outstretched hands when he entered the morning-room. “What +fortunate wind has blown you here?”</p> +<p>“I can hardly tell you, auntie,” he said—both +Helen and he adopted the pleasing fiction of a relationship that +did not exist—“you must ask Mr. Brett.”</p> +<p>Thus appealed to, the barrister set forth, in a few explicit +words, the object of their visit.</p> +<p>“I hope and believe you will succeed,” said Mrs. +Eastham impulsively. “Providence has guided your steps here +at this hour. You cannot imagine how miserable that man Capella +makes me.”</p> +<p>“Why?” cried Hume, darting a look of surprise at +Brett.</p> +<p>“Because he is simply pestering Nellie with his +attentions. There! I must speak plainly. He has gone to extremes +that can no longer be misinterpreted. In our small community, Mr. +Brett,” she explained, “though we dearly love a little +gossip, we are slow to believe that a man married to such a +charming if somewhat unconventional woman as Margaret +Hume-Frazer—I cannot train my tongue to call her Mrs. +Capella—would deliberately neglect his wife and dare to +demonstrate his unlawful affection for another woman, especially +such a girl as Helen Layton.”</p> +<p>“How long has this been going on?” inquired Brett, +for Hume was too furious to speak.</p> +<p>“For some months, but it is only a fortnight ago since +Helen first complained of it to me I promptly told Mr. Capella that +I could not receive him again at my house. He discovered that +Nellie came here a good deal, and managed to call about the same +time as she did. Then he found that she was interested in Japanese +art, and as he is really clever in that respect—”</p> +<p>“Clever,” interrupted the barrister. “Do you +mean that he understands lacquer work, Satsuma ware, painting or +inlaying? Is he a connoisseur or a student?”</p> +<p>“It is all Greek to me!” exclaimed the old lady, +“but unquestionably the bits of china and queer carvings he +often brought here were very beautiful. Nellie did not like him +personally, but she could not deny his knowledge and enthusiasm. +Margaret, too, used to invite her to the Hall, for Miss Layton has +great taste as an amateur gardener, Mr. Brett. But this friendship +suddenly ceased. Mr. Capella became very strange and gloomy in his +manner. At last Nellie told me that the wretched man had dared to +utter words of love to her, hinting that his wife could not live +long, and that he would come in for her fortune. Now, as my poor +girl has been the most faithful soul that ever lived, never for an +instant doubting that some day the cloud would lift from Davie, you +may imagine what a shock this was to her.”</p> +<p>“Mrs. Eastham,” said Brett, suddenly switching the +conversation away from the Italian’s fantasy, “you are +well acquainted with all the circumstances connected with Sir +Alan’s murder. Have you formed any theory about the crime, +its motive, or its possible author?”</p> +<p>“God forgive me if I do any man an injury, but in these +last few days I have had my suspicions,” she exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Tell me your reasons.”</p> +<p>“It arose out of a chance remark by Nellie. She was +discussing with me her inexplicable antipathy to Mr. Capella, even +during the time when they were outwardly good friends. She said +that once he showed her a Japanese sword, a most wonderful piece of +workmanship, with veins of silver and gold let into the handle and +part of the blade. To the upper part of the scabbard was attached a +knife—a small dagger—similar—”</p> +<p>“Yes, I understand. An implement like that used to kill +Sir Alan Hume-Frazer.”</p> +<p>“Exactly. Nellie at first hardly realised its +significance. Then she hastily told Capella to take it away, but +not before she noticed that he seemed to understand the dreadful +thing. It is fastened in its sheath by a hidden spring, and he knew +exactly how to open it. Any person not accustomed to such weapons +would endeavour to pull it out by main force.”</p> +<p>Brett did not press Mrs. Eastham to pursue her theory. It was +plain that she regarded the Italian as a man who might conceivably +be the murderer of his wife’s brother. This was enough for +feminine logic.</p> +<p>Hume, too, shared the same belief, and had not scrupled to +express it openly.</p> +<p>There were, it was true, reasons in plenty, why Capella should +have committed this terrible deed. He was, presumably, affianced to +Margaret at the time. Apparently her father’s will had +contemplated the cutting down of her annual allowance. The young +heir had, on the other hand, made up the deficit. But why did these +artificial restrictions exist? Why were precautions taken by the +father to diminish his daughter’s income? She had been +extravagant. Both father and brother quarrelled with her on this +point. Indeed, there was a slight family disturbance with reference +to it during Sir Alan’s last visit to London. Was Capella +mixed up with it?</p> +<p>At last there was a glimmering perception of motive for an +otherwise fiendishly irrational act. Did it tend to incriminate the +Italian?</p> +<p>A summons to luncheon dispelled the momentary gloom of their +thoughts. Before the meal ended Miss Layton joined them.</p> +<p>Brett looked at his watch. “Fifty minutes!” he +said.</p> +<p>Then they all laughed, except Mrs. Eastham, who marvelled at the +coolness of the meeting between the girl and David. But the old +lady was quick-witted.</p> +<p>“Have you met before?” she cried.</p> +<p>“Dearest,” said the girl, kissing her; “do you +mean to say they have not told you what happened in the +park?”</p> +<p>“That will require a special sitting,” said Brett +gaily. “Meanwhile, I am going to the Hall. I suppose you do +not care to accompany me, Hume?”</p> +<p>“I do not.”</p> +<p>The reply was so emphatic that it created further merriment.</p> +<p>“Well, tell me quickly what this new secret is,” +exclaimed Mrs. Eastham, “because in five minutes I must have +a long talk with my cook. She has to prepare pies and pastry +sufficient to feed nearly a hundred school children next Monday, +and it is a matter of much calculation.”</p> +<p>Brett took his leave.</p> +<p>“I knew that good old soul would be tactful,” he +said to himself. “Now I wonder how Winter made such a +colossal mistake as to imagine that Hume murdered his cousin. He +was sure of the affections of a delightful girl; he could not +succeed to the property; he has declined to take up the title. What +reason could he have for committing such a crime?”</p> +<p>Then a man walked up the road—a man dressed like a farmer +or grazier, rotund, strongly-built, cheerful-looking. He halted +opposite Mrs. Eastham’s house, where the barrister still +stood drawing on his gloves on the doorstep.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Brett aloud, “you <em>are</em> an +egregious ass, Winter.”</p> +<p>“Why, Mr. Brett?” asked the unabashed detective. +“Isn’t the make-up good?”</p> +<p>“It is the make-up that always leads you astray. You never +theorise above the level of the <em>Police Gazette</em>.”</p> +<p>Mr. Winter yielded to not unnatural annoyance. With habitual +caution, he glanced around to assure himself that no other person +was within earshot; then he said vehemently:</p> +<p>“I tell you, Mr. Brett, that swine killed Sir Alan +Hume-Frazer.”</p> +<p>“You use strong language.”</p> +<p>“Not stronger than he deserves.”</p> +<p>“What are you doing here?”</p> +<p>“I heard he was in London, and watched him. I saw him go +to your chambers and guessed what was up, so I came down here to +see you and tell you what I know.”</p> +<p>“Out of pure good-nature?”</p> +<p>“You can believe it or not, Mr. Brett. It is the +truth.”</p> +<p>“He has been tried and acquitted. He cannot be tried +again. Does Scotland Yard—”</p> +<p>“I’m on my holidays.”</p> +<p>Brett laughed heartily.</p> +<p>“I see!” he cried. “A +’bus-driver’s holiday! For how long?”</p> +<p>“Fourteen days.”</p> +<p>“You are nothing if not professional. I suppose it was not +your first offence, or they might have let you off with a +fine.”</p> +<p>The detective enjoyed this departmental joke. He grinned +broadly.</p> +<p>“Anyhow, Mr. Brett,” he said, “you and I have +been engaged on too many smart bits of work for me to stand quietly +by and let you be made a fool of.”</p> +<p>The barrister came nearer, and said, in a low tone:</p> +<p>“Winter, you have never been more mistaken in your life. +Now, attend to my words. If you help me you will, in the first +place, be well paid for your services. Secondly, you will be able +to place your hand on the true murderer of Sir Alan Hume-Frazer, or +I will score my first failure. Thirdly, Scotland Yard will give you +another holiday, and I can secure you some shooting in Scotland. +What say you?”</p> +<p>The detective looked thoughtful. Long experience had taught him +not to argue with Brett when the latter was in earnest.</p> +<p>“I will do anything in my power,” he said, +“but there is more in this business than perhaps you are +aware of—more than ever transpired at the Assizes.”</p> +<p>“Quite so, and a good deal that has transpired since. Now. +Winter, don’t argue, there’s a good fellow. Go and +engage the landlord of the local inn in a discussion on crops. I am +off to Beechcroft Hall. Mr. Hume and I will call for you on our way +back to Stowmarket. In our private sitting-room at the hotel there +I will explain everything.”</p> +<p>They parted. Brett was promptly admitted by Mrs. Crowe, and +walked rapidly up the avenue.</p> +<p>Winter watched his retreating figure.</p> +<p>“He’s smart, I know he’s smart,” mused +the detective. “But he doesn’t know everything about +this affair. He doesn’t know, I’ll be bound, that David +Hume-Frazer waited for his cousin that night outside the library. I +didn’t know it—worse luck!—until after he was +acquitted. And he doesn’t know that Miss Nellie Layton +didn’t reach home until 1.30 a.m., though she left the ball +at 12.15, and her house is, so to speak, a minute’s walk +distant. And she was in a carriage. Oh, there’s more in this +case than meets the eye! I can’t say which would please me +most, to find out the real murderer, if Hume didn’t do it, or +prove Mr. Brett to be in the wrong!”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_VII" id="Ch_VII">Chapter VII</a></h3> +<h2>Husband and Wife</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Brett did not hurry on his way to the Hall. Already things were +in a whirl, and the confusion was so great that he was momentarily +unable to map out a definite line of action.</p> +<p>The relations between Capella and his wife were evidently +strained almost to breaking point, and it was this very fact which +caused him the greatest perplexity.</p> +<p>They had been married little more than six months. They were an +extraordinarily handsome couple, apparently well suited to each +other by temperament and mutual sympathies, whilst their means were +ample enough to permit them to live under any conditions they might +choose, and gratify personal hobbies to the fullest extent.</p> +<p>What, then, could have happened to divide them so +completely?</p> +<p>Surely not Capella’s new-born passion for Helen Layton. +Not even a hot-blooded Southerner could be guilty of such +deliberate rascality, such ineffable folly, during the first few +months after his marriage to a beautiful and wealthy wife.</p> +<p>No, this hypothesis must be rejected. Margaret Capella had +drifted apart from her husband almost as soon as they reached +England on their return as man and wife. Capella, miserable and +disillusioned, buried alive in a country place—for such must +existence in Beechcroft mean to a man of his inclinations—had +discovered a startling contrast between his passionate and moody +spouse, and the bright, pleasant-mannered girl whose ill-fortune it +was to create discord between the inmates of the Hall.</p> +<p>This theory did not wholly exonerate the Italian, but it +explained a good deal. The barrister saw no cause as yet to suspect +Capella of the young baronet’s murder. Were he guilty of that +ghastly crime, his motive must have been to secure for himself the +position he was now deliberately imperilling—all for a +girl’s pretty face.</p> +<p>The explanation would not suffice. Brett had seen much that is +hidden from public ken in the vagaries of criminals, but he had +never yet met a man wholly bad, and at the same time in full +possession of his senses.</p> +<p>To adopt the hasty judgment arrived at by Hume and Mrs. Eastham, +Capella must be deemed capable of murdering his wife’s +brother, of bringing about the death of his wife after securing the +reversion of her vast property to himself, and of falling in love +with Helen—all in the same breath. This species of +criminality was only met with in lunatics, and Capella impressed +the barrister as an emotional personage, capable of supreme good as +of supreme evil, but quite sane.</p> +<p>The question to be solved was this: Why did Capella and his wife +quarrel in the first instance? Perhaps, that way, light might +come.</p> +<p>He asked a footman if Mrs. Capella would receive him. The man +glanced at his card.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir,” he said at once. “Madam gave +instructions that if either you or Mr. David called you were to be +taken to her boudoir, where she awaits you.”</p> +<p>The room was evidently on the first floor, for the servant led +him up the magnificent oak staircase that climbed two sides of the +reception hall.</p> +<p>But this was fated to be a day of interruptions. The barrister, +when he reached the landing, was confronted by the Italian.</p> +<p>“A word with you, Mr. Brett,” was the stiff greeting +given to him.</p> +<p>“Certainly. But I am going to Mrs. Capella’s +room.”</p> +<p>“She can wait. She does not know you are here. James, +remain outside until Mr. Brett returns. Then conduct him to your +mistress.”</p> +<p>Capella’s tone admitted of no argument, nor was it +necessary to protest. Brett always liked people to talk in the way +they deemed best suited to their own interests. Without any +expostulation, therefore, he followed his limping host into a +luxuriously furnished dressing-room.</p> +<p>Capella closed the door, and placed himself gently on a +couch.</p> +<p>“Does your friend fight?” he said, fixing his dark +eyes, blazing with anger, intently on the other.</p> +<p>“That is a matter on which your opinion would probably be +more valuable than mine.”</p> +<p>“Spare me your wit. You know well what I mean. Will he +meet me on the Continent and settle our quarrel like a gentleman, +not like a hired bravo?”</p> +<p>“What quarrel?”</p> +<p>“Mr. Brett, you are not so stupid. David Hume, +notwithstanding his past, may still be deemed a man of honour in +some respects. He treated me grossly this morning. Will he fight +me, or must I treat him as a cur?”</p> +<p>Brett, without invitation, seated himself. He produced a +cigarette and lit it, adding greatly to Capella’s irritation +by his provoking calmness.</p> +<p>“Really,” he said at last, “you amuse +me.”</p> +<p>“Silence!” he cried imperatively, when the Italian +would have broken out into a torrent of expostulations. +“Listen to me, you vain fool!”</p> +<p>This method of address had the rare merit of achieving its +object. Capella was reduced to a condition of speechless rage.</p> +<p>“You consider yourself the aggrieved person, I +suppose,” went on the Englishman, subsiding into a state of +contemptuous placidity. “You neglect your wife, make love to +an honourable and pure-minded girl, stoop to the use of unworthy +taunts and even criminal innuendos, lose such control of your +passion as to lay sacrilegious hands upon Helen Layton, and yet you +resent the well-merited punishment administered to you by her +affianced husband. Were I a surgeon, Mr. Capella, I might take an +anatomical interest in your brain. As it is, I regard you as a +psychological study in latter-day blackguardism. Do you understand +me?”</p> +<p>“Perfectly. You have not yet answered my question. Will +Hume fight?”</p> +<p>“I should say that nothing would give him greater +pleasure.”</p> +<p>“Then you will arrange this matter? I can send a friend to +you?”</p> +<p>“And if you do I will send the police to you, thus +possibly anticipating matters somewhat.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> +<p>“I mean that my sole purpose in life just now is to lay +hands on the man who killed Sir Alan Hume-Frazer. Until that end is +achieved, I will take good care that your crude ideas of honour are +dealt with, as they were to-day, by the toe of a boot.”</p> +<p>Capella was certainly a singular person. He listened unmoved to +Brett’s threats and insults. He gave that snarling smile of +his, and toyed impatiently with his moustache.</p> +<p>“Your object in life does not concern me. Your courts +tried their best to hang the man who was responsible for his +cousin’s death, and failed. I take it you decline this +proffered duel?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Then I will fight David Hume in my own way. You have +rejected the fair alternative on his behalf. Caramba! We shall see +now who wins. He will never marry Helen.”</p> +<p>“What did you mean just now when you said that he was +‘responsible for his cousin’s death’? Is that an +Italian way of describing a cold-blooded murder?”</p> +<p>Capella leaned back and snarled silently again. It was a pity he +had cultivated that trick. It spoilt an otherwise classically +regular set of features.</p> +<p>“James!” he shouted.</p> +<p>The footman entered.</p> +<p>“Take this gentleman to your mistress. I have done with +him.”</p> +<p>“For the present, James,” said Brett.</p> +<p>The astonished servant led him along a corridor and knocked at a +door hidden by a silk curtain. Mrs. Capella rose to receive her +visitor. She was very pale now, but quite calm and dignified in +manner.</p> +<p>“Davie did not come with you?” she said when Brett +was seated near to her in an alcove formed by an oriel window.</p> +<p>“No. He is with Miss Layton.”</p> +<p>“Ah, I am not sorry, I prefer to talk with you +alone.”</p> +<p>“It is perhaps better. Your cousin is impulsive in some +respects, though self-contained enough in others.”</p> +<p>“It may be so. I like him, although we have not seen much +of each other since we were children. I knew him this morning +principally on account of his likeness to Alan. But you are his +friend, Mr. Brett, and I can discuss with you matters I would not +care to broach with him. He is with Helen Layton now, you +say?”</p> +<p>“Yes, and let me add an explanation. Those two young +people are devoted to each other. No power on earth could separate +them.”</p> +<p>“Why do you tell me that?”</p> +<p>“Because I think you wished to be assured of +it?”</p> +<p>“You are clever, Mr. Brett. If you can interpret a +criminal’s designs as well as you can read a woman’s +heart you must be a terror to evil-doers.”</p> +<p>A slight colour came into her cheeks. The barrister leaned +forward, his hands clasped and arms resting on his knees.</p> +<p>“I have just seen your husband,” he said.</p> +<p>She exhibited no marked sign of emotion but he thought he +detected a frightened look in her eyes.</p> +<p>“Again I ask,” she exclaimed, “why do you tell +me?”</p> +<p>“The reason is obvious. You ought to know all that goes +on. There was a quarrel this morning between him and David Hume. +Your husband wished me to arrange a duel. I promised him a visit +from the police if I heard any more of such nonsense.”</p> +<p>“A duel! More bloodshed!” she almost whispered.</p> +<p>“Do not have any alarm for either of them. They are quite +safe. I will guarantee so much, at any rate. But your husband is a +somewhat curious person. He is prone to strong and sudden +hatreds—and attachments.”</p> +<p>Margaret pressed her hands to her face. She could no longer bear +the torture of make-believe quiescence.</p> +<p>“Oh, what shall I do!” she wailed. “I am the +most miserable woman in England to-day, and I might have been the +happiest.”</p> +<p>“Why are you miserable, Mrs. Capella?” asked Brett +gently.</p> +<p>“I cannot tell you. Perhaps it is owing to my own folly. +Are you sure that David and Helen intend to get married?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Then, for Heaven’s sake, let the wedding take +place. Let them leave Beechcroft and its associations for +ever.”</p> +<p>“That cannot be until Hume’s character is cleared +from the odium attached to it.”</p> +<p>“You mean my brother’s death. But that has been +settled by the courts. David was declared ‘Not guilty.’ +Surely that will suffice! No good purpose can be gained by +reopening an inquiry closed by the law.”</p> +<p>“I think you are a little unjust to your cousin in this +matter, Mrs. Capella. He and his future wife feel very grievously +the slur cast upon his name. You know perfectly well that if half +the people in this county were asked, ‘Who killed Sir Alan +Hume-Frazer?’ they would say ‘David Hume.’ The +other half would shake their heads in dubiety, and prefer not to be +on visiting terms with David Hume and his wife. No; your brother +was killed in a particularly foul way. He died needlessly, so far +as we can learn. His death should be avenged, and this can only be +done by tracking his murderer and ruthlessly bringing the wretch to +justice. Are not these your own sentiments when divested of all +conflicting desires?”</p> +<p>Brett’s concluding sentence seemed to petrify his +hearer.</p> +<p>“In what way can I help you?” she murmured, and the +words appeared to come from a heart of stone.</p> +<p>“There are many items I want cleared up, but I do not wish +to distress you unduly. Can you not refer me to your solicitors, +for instance? I imagine they will be able to answer all my +queries.”</p> +<p>“No. I prefer to deal with the affair myself.”</p> +<p>“Very well. I will commence with you personally. Why did +you quarrel with your brother in London a few days before his +death?”</p> +<p>“Because I was living extravagantly. Not only that, but he +disapproved of my manner of life. In those days I was headstrong +and wilful. I loved a Bohemian existence combined with absurd +luxury, or rather, a wildly useless expenditure of money. No one +who knows me now could picture me then. Yet now I am good and +unhappy. Then I was wicked, in some people’s eyes, and happy. +Strange, is it not?”</p> +<p>“Not altogether so unusual as you may think. Was any other +person interested in what I may term the result of the dispute +between your brother and yourself?”</p> +<p>“That is a difficult question to answer. I was very +careless in money matters, but it is clear that the curtailment of +my rate of living from £15,000 to £5,000 per annum must +make considerable difference to all connected with me.”</p> +<p>“Had you been living at the former rate?”</p> +<p>“Yes, since my father’s death. What annoyed Alan was +the fact that I had borrowed from money-lenders.”</p> +<p>“Who else knew of your disagreement with him besides these +money-lenders and his solicitors?”</p> +<p>“All my friends. I used to laugh at his serious ways, when +I, older and much more experienced in some respects, treated life +as a tiresome joke. But none of my friends were commissioned to +murder my brother so that I might obtain the estate, Mr. +Brett.”</p> +<p>“Not by you,” he said thoughtfully.</p> +<p>He knew well that to endeavour to get Margaret to implicate her +husband would merely render her an active opponent. She loved this +Italian scamp. She was profoundly thankful that David Hume had come +back to claim the hand of Helen Layton, the woman who had been the +unwilling object of Capella’s wayward affections. She would +be only too glad to give half her property to the young couple if +they would settle in New Zealand or Peru—far from +Beechcroft.</p> +<p>Yet it was impossible to believe that she could love a man whom +she suspected of murdering her brother. Why, then, had husband and +wife drifted apart? Assuredly the pieces of the puzzle were +inextricably mixed.</p> +<p>“Where did you marry Mr. Capella?” asked Brett +suddenly.</p> +<p>“At Naples—a civil ceremony, before the Mayor, and +registered by the British Consul.”</p> +<p>“Had you been long acquainted”</p> +<p>“I met him, oddly enough, in Covent Garden Theatre, the +night my brother was killed”</p> +<p>It was now Brett’s turn to be startled.</p> +<p>“Are you quite certain of this?” he asked, his +surprise at the turn taken by the conversation almost throwing him +off his guard.</p> +<p>“Positive. Were you led to believe that Giovanni was the +murderer?”</p> +<p>Her voice was cold, impassive, marvellously under control. It +warned him, threw him back into the safe rôle of Hume’s +adviser and friend.</p> +<p>“I am led to believe nothing at present,” he said +slowly. “This inquiry is, as yet, only twenty-four hours old +so far as I am concerned. I am seeking information. When I am +gorged with facts I proceed to digest them.”</p> +<p>“Well, what I tell you is true. There are no less than ten +people, all living, I have no doubt, who can testify to its +correctness. I had a box at the Fancy Dress Ball that New +Year’s Eve. I invited nine guests. One of them, an +attaché at the Italian Embassy, brought Giovanni and +introduced him to me. We were together from midnight until 4.30 +a.m. Whilst poor Alan was lying here dead, I was revelling at a +<em>bal masqué</em>. Do you think I am likely to forget the +circumstances?”</p> +<p>The icy tones thrilled with pitiful remembrance. But the +barrister’s task required the unsparing use of the probe. He +determined, once and for all, to end an unpleasant scene.</p> +<p>“Will you tell me why you and your husband have, shall we +say, disagreed so soon after your marriage? You were formed by +Providence and nature to be mated. What has driven you +apart?”</p> +<p>The woman flushed scarlet under this direct inquiry.</p> +<p>“I cannot tell you,” she said brokenly, “but +the cause—in no way—concerns—either my +brother’s death—or David’s innocence. It is +personal—between Giovanni and myself. In God’s good +time, it may be put right.”</p> +<p>Brett, singularly enough, was a man of quick impulse. He was +moved now by a profound pity for the woman who thus bared her heart +to him.</p> +<p>“Thank you for your candour, Mrs. Capella,” he +exclaimed, with a fervour that evidently touched her. “May I +ask one more question, and I have done with a most unpleasant +ordeal. Do you suspect any person of being your brother’s +assassin?”</p> +<p>“No,” she said. “Indeed I do not.”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_VIII" id="Ch_VIII">Chapter VIII</a></h3> +<h2>Revelations</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Hume and Winter did not meet on terms that might be strictly +described as cordial.</p> +<p>Brett, on quitting the Hall, had surrendered himself to a spell +of vacant bewilderment. He haled the unwilling Hume from +Helen’s society, and picked up the detective at the Wheat +Sheaf Inn. Then the barrister, from sheer need of mental relief, +determined to have some fun with them.</p> +<p>“You two ought to know each other,” he said +good-humouredly. “At one time you took keen interest in +matters of mutual concern. Allow me to introduce you. +Hume—this is Mr. Winter, of Scotland Yard.”</p> +<p>David was quite unprepared for the meeting.</p> +<p>“What?” he exclaimed, his upper lip stiffening, +“the man who concocted all sorts of imaginary evidence +against me!”</p> +<p>“‘Concocted’ is not the right word, nor +‘imaginary’ either,” growled Winter.</p> +<p>“Quite right,” said Brett. “Really, Hume, you +should be more careful in your choice of language. Had Winter been +as careless in his statements at the Assizes, he would certainly +have hanged you.”</p> +<p>Hume was too happy, after a prolonged +<em>tête-à-tête</em> with his beloved, to +harbour malice against any person.</p> +<p>“What are we supposed to do—shake hands?” he +inquired blandly.</p> +<p>“It might be a good preliminary to a better understanding +of one another. You think Winter is an unscrupulous ruffian. He +described you to me as a swine not two hours ago. Now, you are both +wrong. Winter is the best living police detective, and a most +fair-minded one. He will be a valuable ally. Before many days are +over you will be deeply in his debt in every sense of the word. On +the other hand, you, Hume, are a much-wronged man, whom Winter must +help to regain his rightful position. This is one of the occasions +when Justice is compelled to take the bandage off her eyes. She may +be impartial, but she is often blind. Now be friends, and let us +start from that basis.”</p> +<p>Silently the two men exchanged a hearty grip.</p> +<p>“Excellent!” cried the barrister. “Hume, take +Winter with you in front. I will seat myself beside the groom, and +please oblige me, both of you, by not addressing a word to me +between here and Stowmarket.”</p> +<p>Hume and the detective got along comfortably once the ice was +broken. Naturally, they steered clear of all reference to the +tragedy in the presence of the servant. Their talk dealt chiefly +with sporting matters.</p> +<p>Brett, carried swiftly along the level road, kept his eyes fixed +on Beechcroft and its contiguous hamlet until they vanished in the +middle distance.</p> +<p>“This is the most curious inquiry I was ever engaged +in,” he communed. “Winter, of course, will fasten on to +Capella like a horse leech when he knows the facts. Yet Capella is +neither a coward nor an ordinary villain. For some ridiculous +reason, I have a sneaking sympathy with him. Had he stormed and +blustered when I pitched into him to-day I would have thought less +of him. And his wife! What mysterious workings of Fate brought +those two together and then disunited them? They become fascinated +one with the other whilst the brother’s corpse is still +palpitating beneath that terrible stroke. They get married, with +not unreasonable haste, but no sooner do they reach Beechcroft, a +house of evil import if ever bricks and mortar had such a +character, than they are driven asunder by some malign +influence.</p> +<p>“And now, after eighteen months, I am asked to take up the +tangled clues, if such may be said to exist. It is a difficult, +perhaps an impossible, undertaking. Yet if I have done so much in a +day, what may not happen in a fortnight!”</p> +<p>Long afterwards, recalling that soliloquy, he wondered whether +or not, were he suddenly endowed with the gift of prophecy, he +would, nevertheless, have pursued his quest. He never could +tell.</p> +<p>Once securely entrenched in a private sitting-room of the +Stowmarket Hotel, the three men began to discuss crime and +tobacco.</p> +<p>Mr. Winter commenced by being confidential and professional.</p> +<p>“Now, Mr. Hume,” he said, “as +misunderstandings have been cleared, to some extent, by Mr. +Brett’s remarks, I will, with your permission, ask you a few +questions.”</p> +<p>“Fire away.”</p> +<p>“In the first place, your counsel tried to prove—did +prove, in fact—that you walked straight from the ball-room to +the Hall, sat down in the library, and did not move from your chair +until Fergusson, the butler, told you how he had found Sir +Alan’s body on the lawn.”</p> +<p>“Exactly.”</p> +<p>“So if a man comes forward now and swears that he watched +you for nearly ten minutes standing in the shadow of the yews on +the left of the house, he will not be telling the truth?”</p> +<p>“That is putting it mildly.”</p> +<p>“Yet there is such a witness in existence, and I am +certain he is not a liar in this matter.”</p> +<p>“What!”</p> +<p>Brett and Hume ejaculated the word simultaneously; the one +surprised, because he knew how careful Winter was in matters of +fact, the other indignant at the seeming disbelief in his +statement.</p> +<p>“Please, gentlemen,” appealed the detective, +secretly gratified by the sensation he caused, “wait until I +have finished. If I did not fully accept Mr. Brett’s views on +this remarkable case, I would not be sitting here this minute. My +conscience would not permit it”</p> +<p>“Be virtuous, Winter, but not too virtuous,” broke +in Brett drily.</p> +<p>“There you go again, sir, questioning my motives. But I am +of a forgiving disposition. Now, there cannot be the slightest +doubt that a poacher named John Wise, better known as ‘Rabbit +Jack,’ who resides in this town, chose that New Year’s +Eve as an excellent time to net the meadows behind the Hall. He had +heard about Mrs. Eastham’s dance, and knew that on such a +night the estate keepers would have more liking for fun with the +coachmen and maids than for game-watching. He entered the park soon +after midnight, and saw a gentleman walk up the avenue towards the +house. He waited a few minutes, and crept quietly along the side of +the hedge—in the park, of course. Being winter time, the +trees and bushes were bare, and he was startled to see the same +gentleman, with his coat buttoned up, standing in the shade of the +yews close to the Hall. ‘Rabbit Jack’ naturally thought +he had been spotted. He gripped his lurcher’s collar and +stood still for nearly ten minutes. Then it occurred to him that he +was mistaken. He had not been seen, so he stole off towards the +plantation and started operations. He is a first-rate poacher, and +always works alone. About three o’clock he was alarmed by a +policeman’s lantern—the search of the grounds after the +murder, you see—and made off. He entered Stowmarket on the +far side of the town, and ran into a policeman’s arms. They +fought for twenty minutes. The P.C. won, and ‘Rabbit +Jack’ got six months’ hard labour for being in unlawful +possession of game and assaulting the police. Consequently, he +never heard a syllable about the ‘Stowmarket Mystery,’ +as this affair was called by the Press, until long after Mr. +Hume’s second trial and acquittal. Yet the first thing +‘Rabbit Jack’ did after his release was to go straight +to the police and tell them what he had seen. I think, Mr. Hume, +that even you will admit a good deal depended on the result of the +fight between the poacher and the bobby, for ‘Rabbit +Jack’ described a man of your exact appearance and dressed as +you were that night.”</p> +<p>There was silence for a moment when Winter ended his +recital.</p> +<p>“It is evident,” said Brett, otherwise engaged in +making smoke-rings, “that ‘Rabbit Jack’ saw the +real murderer.”</p> +<p>“A man like me—in evening dress! Who on earth could +he be?” was Hume’s natural exclamation.</p> +<p>“We must test this chap’s story,” said +Brett.</p> +<p>“How?”</p> +<p>“Easily enough. There is a garden outside. Can you bring +this human bunny here to-night?”</p> +<p>“I think so.”</p> +<p>“Very well. Stage him about nine o’clock. Anything +else?”</p> +<p>Mr. Winter pondered a little while; then he addressed Hume +hesitatingly:</p> +<p>“Does Mr. Brett know everything that happened after the +murder?”</p> +<p>“I think so. Yes.”</p> +<p>“Everything! Say three-quarters of an hour +afterwards?”</p> +<p>The effect of this remark on Hume was very pronounced. His +habitual air of reserve gave place to a state of decided +confusion.</p> +<p>“What are you hinting at?” he cried, striving hard +to govern his voice.</p> +<p>“Well, it must out, sooner or later. Why did you go to +meet Miss Helen Layton in the avenue about 1.30 a.m.—soon +after Sir Alan’s body had been examined by the +doctor?’</p> +<p>“Oh, damn it, man, how did you ascertain that?” +groaned Hume.</p> +<p>“I knew it all along, but I did not see that it was very +material to the case, and I wanted to keep the poor young +lady’s name out of the affair as far as possible. I did not +want to suggest that she was an accessory after the +crime.”</p> +<p>Hume was blushing like a schoolboy. He glanced miserably at +Brett, but the barrister was still puffing artistic designs in big +and little rings.</p> +<p>“Very well. My reason for concealment disappears +now,” he blurted out, for the young man was both vexed and +ashamed. “That wretched night, after she returned home, Helen +thought she had behaved foolishly in creating a scene. She put on a +cloak, changed her shoes, and slipped back again to Mrs. +Eastham’s, where she met Alan just coming away. She implored +him to make up the quarrel with me. He apologised for his conduct, +and promised to do the same to me when we met. He explained that +other matters had upset his temper that day, and he had momentarily +yielded to an irritated belief that everything was against him. +Helen watched him enter the park; she pretended that she was going +in to Mrs. Eastham’s. She could see the lighted windows of +the library, and she wondered why he did not go inside, but +imagined that at the distance she might easily be mistaken. At last +she ran off to the rectory. Again she lingered in the garden, +devoutly wishing that all might be well between Alan and me. Then +she became conscious that something unusual had taken place, owing +to the lights and commotion. For a long time she was at a loss to +conjecture what could have happened. At last, yielding to +curiosity, she came back to the lodge. The gates were wide open. +Mrs. Eastham’s dance was still in progress. She is not a +timid girl, so she walked boldly up the avenue until she met +Fergusson, the butler, who was then going to tell Mrs. Eastham. +When she heard his story she was too shocked to credit it, and +asked him to bring me. I came. By that time I was beginning to +realise that I might be implicated in the affair, and I begged her +to return home at once, alone. She did so. Subsequently she asked +me not to refer to the escapade, for obvious reasons. It was a +woman’s little secret, Brett, and I was compelled to keep +it.”</p> +<p>“Anything else, Winter?” demanded the barrister, +wrapped in a cloud of his own creation.</p> +<p>“That is all, sir, except the way in which I heard of Miss +Layton’s meeting with Mr. Hume.”</p> +<p>“Not through Fergusson, eh?”</p> +<p>“Not a bit. The old chap is as close as wax. He seems to +think that a Hume-Frazer must die a violent death outside that +library window, and if the cause of the trouble is another +Hume-Frazer, it is their own blooming business, and no other +person’s. Most extraordinary old chap. Have you met +him?”</p> +<p>“No. Indeed, I am only just beginning to hear the correct +details of the story.”</p> +<p>Hume winced, but passed no remark.</p> +<p>“Well, my information came through an anonymous +letter.”</p> +<p>“You don’t say so! How interesting! Have you got +it?”</p> +<p>“I brought it with me, for a reason other than that which +actuates me now, I must confess.”</p> +<p>He produced a small envelope, frayed at the edges, and closely +compressed. It bore the type-written address, “Police Office, +Scotland Yard,” and the postal stamp was “West Strand, +January 18, 9 p.m.”</p> +<p>Within, a small slip of paper, also typed, gave this +message:—</p> +<div class="quote" style="font-family:monospace;"> +<p style="margin:0em;">“About Stowmarket. David Hume Frazer +killed</p> +<p style="margin:0em;">cousin. Cousin talked girl in road.</p> +<p style="margin:0em;">Girl waited wood. David Hume Frazer met</p> +<p style="margin:0em;">girl in wood after 1 a.m.”</p> +</div> +<p>Brett jumped up in instant excitement. Ha placed the two +documents on a table near the window, where the afternoon sun fell +directly on them.</p> +<p>“Written by the murderer!” he cried “The +result of perusing the evening papers containing a report of the +first proceedings before the magistrates! The production of an +illiterate man, who knew neither the use of a hyphen nor the +correct word to describe the avenue! Not wholly exact either, if +your story be true, Hume.”</p> +<p>“My story is true. Helen herself will tell it you, word +for word.”</p> +<p>“This is most important. Look at that broken small +‘c,’ and the bent capital ‘D.’ The letter +‘a,’ too, is out of gear, and does not register +accurately. Do you note the irregular spacing in +‘market,’ ‘Frazer,’ ‘talked’? +You got that letter, Winter, and yet you did not test every +Remington type-writer in London.”</p> +<p>“Oh, of course it’s my fault!”</p> +<p>Mr. Winter’s <em>coup</em> has fallen on himself, and he +knew it.</p> +<p>“Oh, Winter, Winter! Come to me twice a week from six to +seven, Tuesdays and Fridays, and I will give you a night-school +training. Now, I wonder if that type-writer has been +repaired?”</p> +<p>The detective had seldom seen Brett so thoroughly roused. His +eyes were brilliant, his nose dilated as if he could smell the very +scent of the anonymous scribe.</p> +<p>“An illiterate man,” he repeated, “in evening +dress; the same height and appearance as Hume; in a village like +Sleagill on a New Year’s Eve; four miles from everywhere. Was +ever clue so simple provided by a careless scoundrel! And eighteen +months have elapsed. This is positively maddening!”</p> +<p>“Look here, old chap,” said Hume, still smarting +under the recollections of Brett’s caustic utterance, +“say you forgive me for keeping that thing back. There is +nothing else, believe me. It was for Helen’s sake.”</p> +<p>“Rubbish!” cried the barrister. “The only +wonder is that you are not long since assimilated in quicklime in a +prison grave. You are all cracked, I think—living spooks, +human March hares. As for you, Winter, I weep for you.”</p> +<p>He strode rapidly to and fro along the length of the room, +smoking prodigiously, with frowning brows and concentrated eyes. +The others did not speak, but Winter treated Hume to an informing +wink, as one might say.</p> +<p>“Now you will hear something.”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_IX" id="Ch_IX">Chapter IX</a></h3> +<h2>The Ko-Katana</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Thinking aloud, rather than addressing his companions, Brett +began again:—</p> +<p>“The man must have had some place in which to change his +clothes, for he would not court attention by walking about in +evening dress by broad daylight He met and spoke with Alan +Hume-Frazer that afternoon. The result was unsatisfactory. The +stranger resolved to visit him again at night—the night of +the ball. In a country village on such an occasion, a +swallow-tailed coat was a <em>passe-partout</em>, as many gentry +had come in from the surrounding district.”</p> +<p>“Yes, that is so,” broke in Hume.</p> +<p>Brett momentarily looked through him, and the detective shook +his head to deprecate any further interruption.</p> +<p>“He could not enter Mrs. Eastham’s house, for there +everybody knew everybody else. He could not enter the library of +the Hall, because the footman was on duty for several hours. Is not +that so?”</p> +<p>He seemed to bite both men with the question.</p> +<p>“Yes,” they answered.</p> +<p>“Then he was compelled to hang about the avenue, watching +his opportunity—his opportunity for what? Not to commit a +murder! He was unarmed, or, at any rate, his implement was a +haphazard choice, selected on the spur of the moment. He saw David +Hume leave the dance, and watched his brief talk with the butler. +He correctly interpreted Hume’s preparations to await his +cousin’s arrival. Did Hume’s sleepiness suggest the +crime, and its probable explanation? Perhaps. I cannot determine +that point now. Assuredly it gave the opportunity to commit a +theft. Something was stolen from the secretaire. A bold rascal, to +force a drawer whilst another man was in the room! Did he fear the +consequences if he were caught? I think not. He succeeded in his +object, and went off, but before he reached the gates he saw Miss +Layton, whom he did not know, talking to the baronet. He secreted +himself until the baronet entered the park alone. For some reason, +he made his presence known, and walked with Sir Alan to the lawn +outside the window, still retaining in his hand the small knife +used to prise open the lock. There was a short and vehement +dispute. Possibly the baronet guessed the object of this unexpected +appearance. There may have been a struggle. Then the knife was sent +home, with such singular skill that the victim fell without a word, +a groan, to arouse attention. The murderer made off down the +avenue, but he was far too cold-blooded to run away and encounter +unforeseen dangers. No; he waited among the trees to ascertain what +would happen when his victim was discovered, and frame his plans +accordingly. It was then that he saw Helen Layton and David Hume. +As soon as the news of the murder spread abroad the dance broke up. +Amidst the wondering crowd, slowly dispersing in their carriages, +he could easily slip away unseen, for the police, of course, were +sure that David Hume killed his cousin. Don’t you see, +Winter?”</p> +<p>The inspector did not see.</p> +<p>“You are making up a fine tale, Mr. Brett,” he said +doggedly, “but I’m blessed if I can follow your +reasoning.”</p> +<p>“No, of course not. Eighteen months of settled conviction +are not to be dispelled in an instant. But accept my theory. This +man, the guilty man, must have resided in Stowmarket for some +hours, if not days. Many people saw him. He could not live in +Sleagill, where even the village dogs would suspect him. But the +addle-headed police, ready to handcuff David Hume, never thought of +inquiring about strangers who came and went at Stowmarket in those +days. Stowmarket is a metropolis, a wilderness of changeful beings, +to a country policeman. It has a market-day, an occasional drunken +man—life is a whirl in Stowmarket. Fortunately, people have +memories. At that time you did not wear a beard, Hume.”</p> +<p>“No,” was the reply, “though I never told you +that.”</p> +<p>“Of course you told me, many times. Did not your +acquaintances fail to recognise you? Had not Mrs. Capella to look +twice at you before she knew you? Now, Winter, start out. +Ascertain, in each hotel in the town, if they had any strange +guests about the period of the murder. There is a remote chance +that you may learn something. Describe Mr. Hume without a beard, +and hint at a reward if information is forthcoming. Money quickens +the agricultural intellect.”</p> +<p>The detective, doubting much, obeyed. Hume, asking if there was +any reason why he should not drive back to Sleagill for an hour +before dinner, was sarcastically advised to go a good deal farther. +Indeed, the sight of that tiny type-written slip had stirred Brett +to volcanic activity.</p> +<p>He tramped backwards and forwards, enveloped in smoke. Once he +halted and tore at the bell.</p> +<p>A waiter came.</p> +<p>“Go to my room, No. 11, and bring me a leather +dressing-case, marked ‘R.B.’ Run! I give you twenty +seconds. After that you lose sixpence a second out of your +tip.”</p> +<p>He pulled out his watch. The man dashed along the corridor, much +to the amazement of a passing chamber-maid. He returned, bearing +the bag in triumph.</p> +<p>“Seventeen seconds! By the law of equity you are entitled +to eighteenpence.”</p> +<p>Brett produced the money and led the gaping waiter out of the +room, promptly shutting the door on him.</p> +<p>“He’s a rum gentleman that,” said the waiter +to the girl.</p> +<p>“He must be, to make you hurry in such fashion. Why, you +wouldn’t have gone faster for a free pint.”</p> +<p>“I consider that an impertinent observation.” With +tilted nose the man turned and cannoned against Hume.</p> +<p>“Here!” cried the latter. “Run to the stables +and get me a horse and trap. If they are ready in two minutes +I’ll give you two shillings.”</p> +<p>“Talk about makin’ money!” gasped the waiter, +as he flew downstairs, “this is coinin’. But, by gum, +they <em>are</em> in a hurry.”</p> +<p>Brett unlocked his bag and took from it the book of newspaper +cuttings.</p> +<p>“Ah!” he said, after a rapid glance at his +concluding notes. “I thought so. Here is what I wrote when +the affair was fresh in my mind:—</p> +<p>“‘Why were no inquiries made at Stowmarket to learn +what, if any, strangers were in the town on New Year’s +Eve?</p> +<p>“‘Most minute investigations should be pursued with +reference to Margaret Hume-Frazer’s friends and +associates.</p> +<p>“‘Has Fergusson ever been asked if his master +received any visitors on the day of the murder or during the +preceding week? If so, who were they?</p> +<p>“What is the precise purpose of the knife attached to the +Japanese sword? It appears to be too small to be used as a dagger. +In any case, the sword scabbard would be an unsuitable place to +carry an auxiliary weapon, to European ideas.’</p> +<p>“Now, I wonder if Fergusson is still at the Hall? The +other matters must wait.”</p> +<p>Winter returned about the same time as Hume. Brett and the +latter dressed for dinner, and the adroit detective, not to be +beaten, borrowed a dress-suit from the landlord, after telegraphing +to London for his own clothes.</p> +<p>During the progress of the meal the little party scrupulously +refrained from discussing business, an excellent habit always +insisted on by Brett.</p> +<p>They had reached the stage of coffee and cigars when a waiter +entered and whispered something to the police officer.</p> +<p>“‘Rabbit Jack’ is here,” exclaimed +Winter.</p> +<p>“Capital! Tell him to wait.”</p> +<p>When the servant had left, Brett detailed his proposed test. He +and Hume would go into the hotel garden, after donning overcoats +and deer-stalker hats, for Hume told him that both his cousin and +he himself had worn that style of headgear.</p> +<p>They would stand, with their faces hidden, beneath the trees, +and Winter was to bring the poacher towards them, after asking him +to pick out the man who most resembled the person he had seen +standing in the avenue at Beechcroft.</p> +<p>The test was most successful. “Rabbit Jack” +instantly selected Hume.</p> +<p>“It’s either the chap hisself or his dead +spit,” was the poacher’s dictum.</p> +<p>Then he was cautioned to keep his own counsel as to the +incident, and he went away to get gloriously drunk on +half-a-sovereign.</p> +<p>In the seclusion of the sitting-room, Winter related the outcome +of his inquiries. They were negative.</p> +<p>Landlords and barmaids remembered a few commercial travellers by +referring to old lodgers, but they one and all united in the +opinion that New Year’s Eve was a most unlikely time for the +hotels to contain casual visitors.</p> +<p>“I was afraid it would be a wild-goose chase from the +start,” opined Winter.</p> +<p>“Obviously,” replied Brett; “yet ten minutes +ago you produced a man who actually watched the murderer for a +considerable time that night.”</p> +<p>Whilst Winter was searching his wits for a suitable argument, +the barrister continued:</p> +<p>“Where is Fergusson now?”</p> +<p>“I can answer that,” exclaimed Hume. “He is my +father’s butler. When Capella came to Beechcroft, the old man +wrote and said he could not take orders from an Italian. It was +like receiving instructions from a French cook. So my father +brought him to Glen Tochan.”</p> +<p>“Then your father must send him to London. He may be very +useful. I understand he was very many years at +Beechcroft?”</p> +<p>“Forty-six, man and boy, as he puts it.”</p> +<p>“Write to-morrow and bring him to town. He can stay at +your hotel. I will not keep him long; just one +conversation—no more. Can you or your father tell me anything +else about that sword?”</p> +<p>“I fear not. Admiral Cunningham—”</p> +<p>“I guess I’m the authority there,” broke in +Winter. “I got to know all about it from Mr. +Okasaki.”</p> +<p>“And who, pray, is Mr. Okasaki?”</p> +<p>“A Japanese gentleman, who came to Ipswich to hear the +first trial. He was interested in the case, owing to the curious +fact that a murder in a little English village should be committed +with such a weapon, so he came down to listen to the evidence. And, +by the way, he took a barmaid back with him. There was rather a +sensation.”</p> +<p>“The Japs are very enterprising. What did he tell you +about the sword?”</p> +<p>The detective produced a note-book.</p> +<p>“It is all here,” he said, turning over the leaves. +“A Japanese Samurai, or gentleman, in former days carried two +swords, one long blade for use against his enemies, and a shorter +one for committing suicide if he was beaten or disgraced. The sword +Mr. Hume gave his cousin was a short one, and the knife which +accompanied it is called the Ko-Katana, or little sword. As well as +I could understand Mr. Okasaki, a Jap uses this as a pen-knife, and +also as a queer sort of visiting-card. If he slays an enemy he +sticks the Ko-Katana between the other fellow’s ribs, or into +his ear, and leaves it there.”</p> +<p>“A P.P.C. card, in fact!”</p> +<p>“You always have some joke against the +P.C.’s,” growled the detective. “I +never—”</p> +<p>“You have just made a most excellent one yourself. Please +continue, Winter. Your researches are valuable.”</p> +<p>“That is all. Would you like to see the Ko-Katana that +killed Sir Alan?”</p> +<p>“Yes. Where is it?”</p> +<p>“In the Black Museum at Scotland Yard. I will take you +there.”</p> +<p>“Thank you. By the way, concerning this man, Okasaki. +Supposing we should want any further information from him on this +curious topic, can you find him? You say he indulged in some +liaison with an Ipswich girl, so I assume he has not gone back to +Japan.”</p> +<p>“The last I heard of him was at that time. Some one told +me that he was an independent gentleman, noted for his art tastes. +The disappearance of the girl created a rare old row in +Ipswich.”</p> +<p>“Make a note of him. We may need his skilled assistance. +Was there any special design on the Ko-Katana?”</p> +<p>“It was ornamented in some way, but I forget the +pattern.”</p> +<p>“I can help you in that matter,” said Hume. “I +remember perfectly that the handle, of polished gun-metal, bore a +beautiful embossed design in gold and silver of a setting sun +surmounted by clouds and two birds.”</p> +<p>“Correct, Mr. Hume, I recall it now,” said the +detective. “The same thing appears on the handle of the +sword.”</p> +<p>Brett ruminated silently on this fresh information. Like the +other pieces in the puzzle, it seemed to have no sort of connection +with the cause of the crime.</p> +<p>“Why do you say ‘setting sun’? How does one +distinguish it from the rising sun in embossed or inlaid +work?” he asked Hume.</p> +<p>“I do not know. I only repeat Alan’s remark. I gave +the beastly thing to him because he became interested in Japanese +arms during his Eastern tour, you will recollect.”</p> +<p>“Ah, well. That is a nice point for Mr. Okasaki to settle +if we chance to come across him. Don’t forget, Winter, I want +to see that Ko-Katana. Whom did you meet at Sleagill, +Hume?”</p> +<p>The young man laughed. “Helen, of course.”</p> +<p>“Any other person?”</p> +<p>“No. I told her I might chance to drive out in that +direction about five o’clock, so—”</p> +<p>“Dear me! You were not at all certain.”</p> +<p>“By no means. I am at your orders.”</p> +<p>“Excellent! Then my orders are that you shall meet the +young lady on every possible occasion. You took her for a +drive?”</p> +<p>“Well—er—yes, I did. You do not leave me much +to tell.”</p> +<p>“Did she say anything of importance—bearing upon our +inquiry, I mean?”</p> +<p>“Nothing. She had not quitted the rectory since we came +away. I asked her to pick up any village gossip about the people at +the Hall, and let us know at the earliest moment if she regarded it +as valuable in any way.”</p> +<p>“That was thoughtful of you. A great deal may happen there +at any moment.”</p> +<p>A waiter knocked and entered. He handed a letter to Hume.</p> +<p>“From Nellie,” said David hastily.</p> +<p>He opened the envelope and perused a short note, which he gave +to Brett. It ran:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“DEAREST,—I have just heard from Jane, our +under-housemaid, that Mr. Capella is leaving the Hall for London by +an early train to-morrow. Jane ‘walks out’ with Mr. +Capella’s valet, and is in tears. Tell Mr. Brett. I am going +to help Mrs. Eastham to select prize books for the school treat +to-morrow at eleven.</p> +<p class="rgt">“—With love, yours,<br /> +“NELLIE.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Who brought this note?” inquired Hume from the +waiter as he picked up pen and paper.</p> +<p>“A man from Sleagill, sir. Any reply?”</p> +<p>“Certainly. Tell him to wait in the tap-room at my +expense.” He commenced to write.</p> +<p>“Any message?” he asked Brett.</p> +<p>“Yes. Give Miss Layton my compliments, and say I regret to +hear that Jane is in tears. Ask her—Miss Layton—to get +Jane to find out from the valet what train his master will travel +by.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“Because I will go by an earlier one, if +possible.”</p> +<p>“But what about me! Confound it, I +promised—”</p> +<p>“To meet Miss Layton at eleven. Do so, my dear fellow. But +come to town to-morrow evening. Winter and I may want +you.”</p> +<p>So the detective sent another telegram to detain that dress +suit, and Hume seemed to have quickly conquered his disinclination +to visit Stowmarket.</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_X" id="Ch_X">Chapter X</a></h3> +<h2>The Black Museum</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Winter, who had never seen Capella, was so well posted by Brett +as to his personal appearance that he experienced no difficulty in +picking out the Italian when he alighted from the train at +Liverpool Street Station next morning.</p> +<p>Capella did not conduct himself like a furtive villain. He +jumped into a hansom. His valet followed in a four-wheeler with the +luggage. In each instance the address given to the driver was that +of a well-known West End hotel.</p> +<p>The detective’s cab kept pace with Capella’s through +Old Broad Street, Queen Victoria Street, and along the Embankment. +At the Mansion House, and again at Blackfriars, they halted side by +side, and Winter noticed that his quarry was looking into space +with sullen, vindictive eyes.</p> +<p>“He means mischief to somebody,” was Winter’s +summing up. “I wonder if he intends to knife Hume?” for +Brett had given his professional <em>confrère</em> a +synopsis of all that happened before they met, and of his +subsequent conversation with the “happy couple” in +Beechcroft Hall.</p> +<p>He repeated this remark to the barrister when he reached +Brett’s chambers.</p> +<p>“Capella will do nothing so crude,” was the comment. +“He is no fool. I do not credit him with the murder of Sir +Alan, but if I am mistaken in this respect, it is impossible to +suppose that he can dream of clearing his path again by the same +drastic method. Of course he means mischief, but he will stab +reputations, not individuals.”</p> +<p>“When will you come to the Black Museum?”</p> +<p>“At once, if you like. But before we set out I want to +discuss Mr. Okasaki with you. What sort of person is he?”</p> +<p>“A genuine Jap, small, lively, and oval-faced. His eyes +are like tiny slits in a water melon, and when he laughs his grin +goes back to his ears.”</p> +<p>“Really, Winter, I did not credit you with such a fund of +picturesque imagery. Would you know him again?”</p> +<p>“I can’t be certain. All Japs are very much alike, +to my thinking, but if I heard him talk I would be almost sure. Why +do you ask?”</p> +<p>“Because I have been looking up a little information with +reference to the Ko-Katana and its uses. Now, Okasaki is the name +of a Japanese town. Family names almost invariably have a +topographical foundation, referring to some village, river, street, +or mountain, and there may be thousands of Okasakis. Then, again, +it was the custom some years ago for a man to be called one name at +birth, another when he came of age, a third when he obtained some +official position, and so on. For instance, you would be called +Spring when you were born, Summer when you were twenty-one, Autumn +when you became a policeman, and Winter when you reached your +present rank.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Christopher!” cried the detective. “And +if I were made Chief Inspector?”</p> +<p>“Then your title would be ‘Top Dog’ or +something of the sort.”</p> +<p>Mr. Winter assimilated the foregoing information with a profound +thankfulness that we in England do these things differently.</p> +<p>“Why are you so interested in Mr. Okasaki?” he +inquired.</p> +<p>“I will answer your question by another. Why was he so +interested in the Ko-Katana?”</p> +<p>“That is hardly what I told you, Mr. Brett. He professed +to be interested in the crime itself. But now I come to think of +it, he did ask me to let him see the thing.”</p> +<p>“And did you?”</p> +<p>“Yes; I wanted all the information I could get.”</p> +<p>“My position exactly. Let us go to Scotland +Yard.”</p> +<p>The famous Black Museum has so often been the subject of +articles in the public press that no detailed description is needed +here. It contains, in glass cases, or hanging on the walls, a weird +collection of articles famous in the annals of crime. It is not +open to the public, and Brett, who had not seen the place before, +examined its relics with much curiosity.</p> +<p>The detective exhibited a pardonable pride in some of them, but +his companion damped his enthusiasm by saying:</p> +<p>“This is a depressing sight.”</p> +<p>“In what way?”</p> +<p>“British rogues are evidently of low intelligence in the +average. A bludgeon and a halter make up their history.”</p> +<p>“There’s more than that in a good many +cases.”</p> +<p>“Ah, I forgot the handcuffs.”</p> +<p>“Well, here is the Ko-Katana,” said Winter +shortly.</p> +<p>The barrister took the fateful weapon, not more deadly than a +paper-knife in appearance, and scrutinised it closely.</p> +<p>“It has not been cleaned,” he said.</p> +<p>“No, it was left untouched after the doctor withdrew it +from the poor young fellow’s breast.”</p> +<p>Brett produced a magnifying glass. Beneath the rust on the blade +he thought he could distinguish some Japanese characters in the +quaint pictorial script adapted by that singular people from the +Chinese system of writing.</p> +<p>He brought the knife nearer to the window and carefully focussed +it. Then he produced a note-book and made a pencil drawing of the +following inscription:</p> +<div class="figure"><a href="images/01.png"><img src= +"images/01.png" alt="Japanese writing" id="img01" name="img01" +width="90%" /></a></div> +<p>Winter watched him with quiet agony. He had never noticed the +signs before.</p> +<p>“Mr. Okasaki did not tell you what these scratches +meant?” inquired the barrister.</p> +<p>“No. He did not see them.”</p> +<p>“Sure?”</p> +<p>“Quite positive. Of course, it is very smart on your part +to hit upon them so quickly, but what possible purpose can it serve +to find out the meaning of something carved in Japan more than +fifty years ago, at the very least?”</p> +<p>“I do not know. It is very stupid of me, I admit, but I +have not the faintest notion.”</p> +<p>“Does it make the finding of Okasaki more +important?”</p> +<p>“To a certain extent. We want to have everything +explained. At present we have so little of what I regard as really +definite evidence.”</p> +<p>“May I ask what that little is?”</p> +<p>“Sir Alan Hume-Frazer was murdered with a knife produced +by a man like David Hume, whom ‘Rabbit Jack’ saw +standing beneath the yews. Not much, eh?”</p> +<p>Winter shook his head dubiously.</p> +<p>“If Sir Alan were shot instead of stabbed,” went on +the barrister, “the first thing you would endeavour to +determine would be the calibre and nature of the bullet. Why not be +equally particular about the knife?”</p> +<p>“But this weapon has been for fifty years in Glen Tochan. +Its history is thoroughly established.”</p> +<p>“Is it? Who made it? Whose crest does it bear? What does +this motto signify? If you wanted to kill a man would you use this +toy? Why was not the sword itself employed?”</p> +<p>“That string of questions leaves me out, Mr. +Brett.”</p> +<p>“I am equally uninformed. I can only answer the last one. +The sword is intended for suicidal purposes, the Ko-Katana for an +enemy. This is a case of murder, not suicide.”</p> +<p>The detective wheeled sharply on his heels, thereby upsetting +Charles Peace’s telescopic ladder.</p> +<p>“You suspect Okasaki!” he cried.</p> +<p>“My dear fellow! Okasaki is, say, five feet nothing. The +murderer is five feet ten inches in height. Japanese are clever +people, but they are not—telescopes,” and he picked up +the ladder.</p> +<p>Winter grinned. “You always make capital out of my +blunders,” he said.</p> +<p>“Pooh! My banking account is limited. Let us go. The moral +atmosphere in this room is vile.”</p> +<p>Outside the Central Police Office they separated, Brett to pay +some long-neglected calls, Winter to hunt up Capella’s +movements and initiate inquiries about Okasaki.</p> +<p>The detective came to Brett’s chambers at five +o’clock, in a great state of excitement.</p> +<p>“Thank goodness you are at home, sir.” he cried, +when Smith admitted him to the barrister’s sanctum. +“Capella is off to Naples.”</p> +<p>Naples, the scene of his marriage! What did this journey +portend? Naught but the gravest considerations would take him so +far away from home when he knew that David and Helen were +reunited.</p> +<p>“How did you discover this fact?” asked Brett, +awaking out of a brown study.</p> +<p>“Easily enough, as it happened. Ninety-nine per cent. of +gentlemen’s valets are keen sports. Barbers and hotel-porters +run them close. I do a bit that way myself—”</p> +<p>The barrister groaned.</p> +<p>“Not often, sir, but this is holiday time, you see. +Anyhow, I gave the hall-porter, whom I know, the wink to come to a +neighbouring bar during his time off for tea. He actually brought +Capella’s man—William his name is—with him. I +told them I had backed the first winner to-day, an eight to one +chance, and that started them. I offered to put them on a certainty +next week, and William’s face fell. ‘It’s a +beastly nuisance,’ he said, ‘I’m off to Naples +with my boss to-morrow.’ ‘Well,’ said I, +‘if you’re not going before the night train, perhaps I +may be able—’ But that made him worse, because they +leave by the 11 A.M., Victoria.”</p> +<p>Brett began to pace the room. He could not make up his mind to +visit Naples in person. For one thing, he did not speak Italian. +But Capella must be followed. At last he decided upon a course of +action.</p> +<p>“Winter,” he said, “do you know a man we can +trust, an Italian, or better still, an Italian-speaking Englishman, +who can undertake this commission for us?”</p> +<p>“Would you mind ringing for Smith, sir?” replied the +detective, who seemed to be mightily pleased with himself.</p> +<p>Smith appeared.</p> +<p>“At the foot of the stairs you will find a gentleman named +Holden,” said Winter. “Ask him to come up, +please.”</p> +<p>Holden appeared, a sallow personage, long-nosed and +shrewd-looking. The detective explained that Mr. Holden was an +ex-police sergeant, retained for many years at headquarters on +account of his fluency in the language of Tasso. Winter did not +mention Tasso. This is figurative.</p> +<p>An arrangement was quickly made. He was to start that evening +and meet Capella on arrival at Naples; Winter would telegraph the +fact of the Italian’s departure according to programme. +Holden was not to spare expense in employing local assistance if +necessary. He was to report everything he could learn about +Capella’s movements.</p> +<p>Brett wanted to hand him £50, but found that all the money +he had in his possession at the moment only totalled up to +£35.</p> +<p>Winter produced a small bag.</p> +<p>“It was quite true what I said,” he smirked. +“I did back the first winner, and, what’s more, I drew +it—sixteen of the best.”</p> +<p>“I had no idea the police force was so corrupt,” +sighed Brett, as he completed the financial transaction, and Mr. +Holden took his departure. The detective also went off to search +for Okasaki.</p> +<p>About nine o’clock Hume arrived.</p> +<p>“You will be glad to hear,” he said, “that the +rector invited me to lunch. He approves of my project, and will +pray for my success. It has been a most pleasant day for me, I can +assure you.”</p> +<p>“The rector retired to his study immediately after lunch, +I presume?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said David innocently. “Has anything +important occurred in town?”</p> +<p>Brett gave him a resumé of events. A chance allusion to +Sir Alan caused the young man to exclaim:</p> +<p>“By the way, you have never seen his photograph. He and I +were very much alike, you know, and I have brought from my rooms a +few pictures which may interest you.”</p> +<p>He handed to Brett photographs of himself and his two cousins, +and of the older Sir Alan and Lady Hume-Frazer, taken singly and in +groups.</p> +<p>The barrister examined them minutely.</p> +<p>“Alan and I,” pointed out his client, “were +photographed during our last visit to London. Poor chap! He never +saw this picture. The proofs were not sent until after his +death.”</p> +<p>Something seemed to puzzle Brett very considerably. He compared +the pictures one with the other, and paid heed to every detail.</p> +<p>“Let me understand,” Brett said at last. “I +think I have it in my notes that at the time of the murder you were +twenty-seven, Sir Alan twenty-four, and Mrs. Capella +twenty-six?”</p> +<p>“That is so, approximately. We were born respectively in +January, October, and December. My twenty-seventh birthday fell on +the 11th.”</p> +<p>“Stated exactly, you were two years and nine months older +than he?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“You don’t look it.”</p> +<p>“I never did. We were always about the same size as boys, +but he matured at an earlier age than I.”</p> +<p>“It is odd. How old were you when this group was +taken?”</p> +<p>The photograph depicted a family gathering on the lawn at +Beechcroft. There were eight persons in it, three being elderly +men.</p> +<p>David reflected.</p> +<p>“That was before I left Harrow, and Christmas time. +Seventeen almost, within a couple of weeks.”</p> +<p>“So your cousin Margaret was sixteen?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“She was remarkably tall, well-developed for her +age.”</p> +<p>“That was a notable characteristic from an early age. We +boys used to call her ‘Mama,’ when we wanted to vex +her.”</p> +<p>“The three old gentlemen are very much alike. This is the +baronet. Who are the others?”</p> +<p>“My father and uncle.”</p> +<p>“What! Do you mean to tell me there is another branch of +the family?”</p> +<p>“Well, yes, in a sense. My uncle is dead. His son, my age +or a little older, for the youngest of the three brothers was +married first, was last heard of in Argentina.”</p> +<p>Brett threw the photograph down with clatter.</p> +<p>“Good Heavens!” he vociferated, “when shall I +begin to comprehend this business in its entirety? How many more +uncles, and aunts, and cousins have you?”</p> +<p>Amazed by this outburst, Hume endeavoured to put matters +right.</p> +<p>“I never thought—” he commenced.</p> +<p>“You come to me to do the thinking, Hume. For +goodness’ sake switch your memory for five minutes from Miss +Layton, and tell me all you know of your family history. Have you +any other relations?”</p> +<p>“None whatever.”</p> +<p>“And this newly-arrived cousin, what of him?”</p> +<p>“He was in the navy, and being of a quarrelsome +disposition, was court-martialled for some small outbreak. He would +not submit to discipline, and resigned the service. Then his father +died, and Bob went off to South America. I have never heard of him +since. I know very little about my younger uncle’s household. +Indeed, the occasion recorded by the photograph was the last time +the old men met in friendship. There was a dispute about money +matters. My Uncle Charles was in the city, the two estates being +left by my grandfather to the two oldest sons. Charles Hume-Frazer +died a poor man, having lost his fortune by speculation.”</p> +<p>“Have you seen your cousin Robert? Did he resemble Alan +and you?”</p> +<p>“We were all as like as peas. People say that our house is +remarkable for the unchanging type of its male line. That is +readily demonstrated by the family portraits. You have not been in +the dining-room or picture-gallery at Beechcroft, or you must have +noticed this instantly.”</p> +<p>Brett flung himself into a chair.</p> +<p>“The Argentine!” he muttered. “A nice school +for a ‘quarrelsome’ Hume-Frazer.”</p> +<p>He had calmed sufficiently to reach for his cigarette-case when +Smith entered with a note, delivered by a boy messenger.</p> +<p>It was from Winter:</p> +<p>“Have found Okasaki. His name is now Numagawa Jiro, so you +were right, as usual. He and Mrs. Jiro live at 17 St. John’s +Mansions, Kensington.”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XI" id="Ch_XI">Chapter XI</a></h3> +<h2>Mr. “Okasaki”</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>In fifteen minutes Brett was bowling along Knightsbridge in a +hansom, having left Hume with a strict injunction to rack his +brains for any further undiscovered facts bearing upon the inquiry, +and turn up promptly at ten o’clock next morning.</p> +<p>Although the hour was late for calling upon a complete stranger, +the barrister could not rest until he had inspected the Jiro +ménage. No. 17 was a long way from the ground level. Indeed, +the cats of Kensington, if sufficiently enterprising, inhabitated +the floor above.</p> +<p>He rang, and was surveyed with astonishment by a very small +maid-servant.</p> +<p>“Is Mr. Numagawa Jiro at home?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“No, sir, but Mrs. Jiro is.”</p> +<p>An infantine wail from one of the apartments showed that there +was also a young Jiro.</p> +<p>The maid neither advanced nor retreated. She simply stood stock +still, petrified by the sight of a well-dressed visitor.</p> +<p>Brett suggested that she should inform her mistress of his +presence.</p> +<p>“Please, sir,” whispered the girl, “are you +from Ipswich?”</p> +<p>“No; from Victoria Street.”</p> +<p>“I only asked, sir, because master is particular about +people from Ipswich. They upset missus so.”</p> +<p>She vanished into the interior, and came back to usher him into +the drawing-room. The flat was expensively furnished, but very +untidy. He at once perceived, however, that the +“former” Mr. Okasaki was not romancing when he boasted +of his artistic tastes. The Japanese articles in the room were gems +of faience and lacquer work.</p> +<p>The entrance of Mrs. Jiro drew the barrister’s eyes from +surrounding objects. He was momentarily stunned. The woman was +almost a giantess, and amazingly stout. In a tiny flat, waited on +by a diminutive servant, and married to a Japanese, she was +grotesque.</p> +<p>Originally a very tall and fairly good-looking girl, she had +evidently blossomed out like one of the gorgeous chrysanthemums of +her husband’s favoured land.</p> +<p>Assuredly she had acquired no Japanese traits either in manner +or appearance. At first she seemed to be in a genuinely British bad +temper, but Brett excelled in the art of smoothing the ruffled +plumes of femininity.</p> +<p>“What is it?” she demanded, surveying him +suspiciously.</p> +<p>“I wish to see Mr. Jiro,” he said, “but permit +me to apologise for making such an untimely call. As he is not at +home, I must not trouble you beyond inquiring a likely hour to see +him to-morrow.”</p> +<p>He smiled so pleasantly that the lady became more +complaisant.</p> +<p>“He may not be very long—” she commenced, but +the youthful Jiro’s voice was again heard in fretful +complaint.</p> +<p>“My baby is not well to-night,” she explained.</p> +<p>“Poor little darling!” said Brett.</p> +<p>He was tempted to add: “What is its name?” but +refrained.</p> +<p>“Won’t you sit down?” said Mrs. Jiro. +“As I was saying, my husband may not be very +long—”</p> +<p>She was fated not to complete that doubly accurate sentence, for +at that moment a key rattled in the outer door.</p> +<p>“Here he is,” she announced; and Mr. Jiro +entered.</p> +<p>It was fortunate that the gravity of his errand, no less than +his power of self-control, kept Brett from laughing. As it was, he +smiled very broadly when he greeted the master of the flat, for the +little man was small even for a Japanese.</p> +<p>The contrast between him and his helpmate was ludicrous. He +could not possibly kiss her unless she stooped, nor would his arms +encircle her shoulders.</p> +<p>“And how is my pretty <em>karasu</em>?” he asked, +regarding his wife fondly.</p> +<p>“Don’t call me that, Nummie!” she cried.</p> +<p>Turning to Brett she explained: “He calls me a crow, and +says it is a compliment, but I don’t like it.”</p> +<p>“In Japan the clow speaks with the voice of love,” +grinned Jiro.</p> +<p>“Well, it sounds funny in London, so just attend to this +gentleman. He has come to see you on business.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Jiro forthwith seated herself to listen to the conclave. +Brett, though warned by the maid’s remark, could not help +himself, so he went straight to the point.</p> +<p>“Over a year ago,” he said, “you were in +Ipswich.”</p> +<p>Instantly a severe chill fell upon his hearers. The man shrank, +the woman expanded, but before either could utter a word, the +barrister continued:</p> +<p>“Personally, I know no one in Ipswich. I have only visited +the town twice, during an Assize week. It has come to my knowledge +that you gave the police some information with reference to a +Japanese weapon which figured in a noted crime, and I have ventured +to come here to ask you for additional details.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Jiro heaved a great sigh of relief.</p> +<p>“My gracious!” she cried, “you did startle me. +I can’t bear to hear the name of Ipswich nowadays. I was +married from there.”</p> +<p>“Indeed!” said Brett, with polite interest.</p> +<p>“Yes; and my people are always hunting me up and making a +row because I married Mr. Jiro. Sometimes they make me that ill +that I feel half inclined to go with him to Japan. He is always +worrying me to leave London, but the more I hear about Japan the +less I fancy it.”</p> +<p>“Ah, my own little <em>gan</em>—” broke in her +husband.</p> +<p>“There you go again,” she snapped. “Calling me +a <em>gan</em>—a goose, indeed! Now, Mr. Brett, how would you +like to be called a wild goose?”</p> +<p>“I have often deserved it,” he said.</p> +<p>“You do not understand,” chirped Jiro. “In +Japan the goose is beautiful, elegant. It flies fast like a white +spilit.”</p> +<p>His English was almost perfect, but in words containing a rolled +“r” he often substituted an “l.”</p> +<p>“I understand enough to keep away from Japan, a place +where they have an earthquake every five minutes, and people live +in paper houses. Besides, look at the size of your women-folk. Just +imagine me, Mr. Brett, walking about among those little dolls, like +a turkey among tom-tits.”</p> +<p>“We give fat people much admilation,” said Jiro.</p> +<p>“Nummie, I do hate that word fat. I can’t help being +tall and well developed; but it is only short women who become +‘fat’.”</p> +<p>She hissed the word venomously, as if she possessed the +scorpion’s fabled power to sting herself. Evidently Mrs. Jiro +dreaded corpulence more than earthquakes.</p> +<p>Brett had never previously met such a strangely assorted couple. +He would willingly have prolonged his visit for mere amusement, but +he was compelled to return to the cause of his presence. Unless he +asked direct questions he would make no progress. He took from his +pocket-book the drawing made in the Black Museum, and handed it to +the Japanese, saying:</p> +<p>“Would you mind telling me the meaning of that?”</p> +<p>Jiro screwed his queer little eyes upon the scrawling +characters. The methods of writing in the Far East, being pictorial +and inexact, require scrutiny of the context before a given +sentence can be correctly interpreted.</p> +<p>The little man made no trouble about it, however.</p> +<p>“They are old chalacters,” he said. “In Japan +we joke a lot. Evely sign has sevelal meanings. This can be lead +two ways. It is a plovelb, and says, ‘A new field gives a +small clop,’ or ‘Human life is but fifty years.’ +Where did you see it?”</p> +<p>“On the blade of the Ko-Katana that killed Sir Alan +Hume-Frazer,” answered Brett.</p> +<p>And now he experienced a fresh difficulty. The Japanese face is +exceedingly expressive. When a native of the Island Empire smiles +or scowls, exhibits surprise or fear, he apparently does these +things with his whole soul. Such facial plasticity provides far +more effective concealment of real emotions than the phlegmatic +indifference of the Briton, who, in the words of Emerson, requires +“pitchforks or the cry of ‘fire!’” to +arouse him.</p> +<p>It is possible to throw an Englishman off his guard by a shrewd +thrust; but Mr. Numagawa Jiro was one of those persons whose +lineaments would reveal the same amount of pain over a cut finger +as a broken leg.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, Brett’s reply did unquestionably make him +jump, and even Mrs. Jiro’s bulging features became +anxious.</p> +<p>“Is that possible?” said the Japanese. “It is +velly stlange the police gentleman did not tell me about +it.”</p> +<p>“He did not know of it until to-day,” explained +Brett, “and that is why I am here now. It is the motto of +some important Japanese family, is it not?”</p> +<p>“It is a plovelb,” repeated Jiro, who evidently +intended to take thought.</p> +<p>“So I understand, but used in this way it represents a +family, a clan?”</p> +<p>“I do not know.”</p> +<p>“What! A man so interested in his country’s art as +to go to an out-of-the-way English provincial town merely to see a +small knife, must surely be able to decide such a trivial matter as +the use of mottoes on sword blades!”</p> +<p>Mr. Jiro’s excellent knowledge of English seemed to fail +him, but his wife took up the defence.</p> +<p>“My husband had more to think about in Ipswich than a +small knife, Mr. Brett.”</p> +<p>“Very much more, but it was the knife which brought him to +the place. He carried the major attraction away with +him.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Jiro thought this sounded nice. She turned to her +husband:</p> +<p>“Why don’t you tell the gentleman all you know about +it, Nummie?”</p> +<p>The little man looked at her curiously before he spoke to the +barrister.</p> +<p>“I have nothing to tell,” he said. “I told the +police all that they asked me. That was a velly old Ko-Katana, a +hundred yeals old. It was made by a famous altist. I have told you +the meaning of the liting. That is all I know.”</p> +<p>“Why did you give your name at Ipswich as Okasaki?” +demanded Brett.</p> +<p>“Oh, that is vely easy. Okosaki is my family name. You +English people say it quicker than Numaguwa Jiro, so I give it. But +when I got mallied I used my light name. Japanese law does not +pelmit the change of names now. My ploper name is Numagawa +Jiro”—which he pronounced “Jilo.”</p> +<p>“You told the detective at Ipswich that the device on the +handle represented the setting sun. How did you know the sun was +setting, and not rising?”</p> +<p>It was a haphazard shot. The description was Hume’s, not +Winter’s.</p> +<p>Again the Japanese paused before answering.</p> +<p>“It was shown by the way in which the gold was used. +Japanese altists have symbols for ideas. That is one.”</p> +<p>“Thank you. I imagined you recognised the device, and +could speak off-hand in the matter. By the way, do you use a +type-writer?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Mrs. Jiro. “My husband is clever +at all that sort of thing, and when he found the people could not +read his writing he bought a machine.”</p> +<p>“I have sold it again,” interfered Jiro, after a +hasty glance round the room, “and I am going to buy +another.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Jiro rose to stir the fire unnecessarily.</p> +<p>“They are most useful,” said Brett. “Which +make do you prefer?”</p> +<p>“They are all vely much alike,” answered the +Japanese, “but I am going to buy a Yost or a +Hammond.”</p> +<p>“I am very much obliged to you for receiving me at this +late hour,” said the barrister, rising, “but before I +go allow me to compliment you on your remarkable knowledge of +English. I am sure you are indebted to your good lady for your +idiomatic command of the language.”</p> +<p>“I studied it for yeals in Japan—” began Jiro, +but in vain, for his very much better half resented the word +“idiomatic.”</p> +<p>“I don’t know about that,” she snorted. +“He talked a lot of nonsense when we were married, but +I’ve made him drop it, and he is teaching me +Japanese.”</p> +<p>“His task is a pleasant one. It is the tongue of poetry +and love.”</p> +<p>Again there was a pause. A minute later Brett was standing in +the street trying to determine how best to act.</p> +<p>He was fully persuaded that Jiro had, in the first place, +identified the crest as belonging to one of the many Samurai clans. +But the motto was new to him, and its discovery had revealed the +particular family which claimed its use.</p> +<p>Why did he refuse to impart his knowledge? There must be plenty +of Japanese in London who would give this information readily.</p> +<p>Again, why did he lie about the type-writer, and endeavour to +mislead him as to the make of the machine he used?</p> +<p>To-morrow, for a certainty, Jiro would dispose of the Remington +which he now possessed. Well, he should meet with a ready +purchaser, if a letter from Brett to every agency in London would +expedite matters.</p> +<p>He did not credit Jiro with the death of Sir Alan Hume-Frazer, +nor even with complicity in the crime. The Japanese had acted as +the unwitting tool of a stronger personality, and the little +man’s brain was even at this moment considering fresh aspects +of the affair not previously within his ken.</p> +<p>Moreover, how maddening the whole thing was! Beginning with +Hume’s fantastic dream, he reviewed the hitherto unknown +elements in the case—Capella’s fierce passion and queer +behaviour, culminating in a sudden journey to Italy, +Margaret’s silent agony, the existence of an Argentine +cousin, the evidence of “Rabbit Jack,” the punning +motto on the Ko-Katana, Jiro’s perturbation and desire to +prevent his wife’s unconscious disclosures.</p> +<p>With the final item came the ludicrous remembrance of that +ill-assorted couple. Laughing, Brett hailed a hansom.</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XII" id="Ch_XII">Chapter XII</a></h3> +<h2>What the Stationmaster Saw</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>The number of type-writer exchanges in London is not large. +Impressing the services of Smith and his wife as amanuenses, Brett +despatched the requisite letters before he retired for the +night.</p> +<p>He was up betimes and out before breakfast, surprising the +domestics of his club by an early visit to the library. The Etona +contained a great many service members, and made a feature of its +complete editions of Army and Navy lists.</p> +<p>In one of the latter, eight years old, Brett found, among the +officers of the <em>Northumberland</em>, at that time in +commission, “Robert Hume-Fraser, sub-lieutenant.” A +later volume recorded his retirement from the service.</p> +<p>Hume and Winter reached Brett’s flat together.</p> +<p>“Any luck with the Jap, sir?” asked the detective +cheerily.</p> +<p>Brett told them what had happened, and Winter sighed. Here, +indeed, was a promising subject for an arrest. Why not lock him up, +and seize the type-writer? But he knew the barrister by this time, +and uttered no word.</p> +<p>“And now,” said Brett, after a malicious pause to +enable Winter to declare himself, “I am going back to +Stowmarket. No, Hume, you are not coming with me. When does +Fergusson arrive here?”</p> +<p>The question drove from David’s face the disappointed look +with which he received his friend’s announcement.</p> +<p>“To-morrow evening,” he replied. “My father +thinks the old man should not risk an all-night journey. He has +also sent me every detail he can get together, either from +documents or recollection, bearing upon our family +history.”</p> +<p>He produced a formidable roll of manuscript. The old gentleman +had evidently devoted many hours and some literary skill to the +compilation.</p> +<p>“I will read that in the train,” said Brett. +“You must start at once for Portsmouth. I have here a list of +all the officers serving with your cousin Robert on the +<em>Northumberland</em> immediately prior to his quitting the Navy. +Portsmouth, Devonport, Southsea, and the neighbourhood will almost +certainly contain some of them. If not, people there will know +where they are to be found. You must make yourself known to them, +and endeavour to gain any sort of news concerning the +ex-lieutenant. Naval men roam all over the world. Some of them may +have met him in the Argentine, or in any of the South American +ports where British warships are constantly calling. He was a +sailor. He left the Navy under no cloud. Hence, the presence of a +British man-o’-war would draw him like a magnet. Do not come +back here until you bring news of him.”</p> +<p>“Why is it so important? You cannot +imagine—”</p> +<p>“No; I endeavour to restrain my imagination. I want facts. +You are the best person to obtain them. One relative inquiring for +another is a natural proceeding. It will not arouse suspicions that +you are a debt-collector.”</p> +<p>“Suppose I obtain news of his whereabouts?”</p> +<p>“Telegraph to me and I will give you fresh +instructions.”</p> +<p>Hume walked to the door.</p> +<p>“Give my kind regards to Miss Layton,” he said +grimly.</p> +<p>“I will be delighted. Work hard. You will see her all the +sooner.”</p> +<p>“There goes a man in love,” continued Brett, +addressing the back of Winter’s skull, though looking him +straight in the face. “His career, his reputation, everything +he values most in this world is at stake. He is a sensible, +level-headed fellow, who has become embittered by unjust suspicion; +yet he would unwillingly let a material item like his +cousin’s proceedings sink into oblivion just for the sake of +telling a girl that she looks more charming to-day than she did +yesterday, or some equally original remark peculiar to love-making. +How do you account for it, Winter?”</p> +<p>“I give it up,” sighed the detective. “We are +all fools where women are concerned.”</p> +<p>“You surprise me,” said the barrister sternly. +“Such a personal confession of weakness is unexpected—I +may say distressing.”</p> +<p>Winter shook his head.</p> +<p>“You’re not married, Mr. Brett, or you +wouldn’t talk like that.”</p> +<p>“Well, let it pass. I want you to make the acquaintance of +that loving couple, Mr. and Mrs. Numagawa Jiro. You must disguise +yourself. Jiro is to be shadowed constantly. Get any help you +require, but do it. Be off, Winter, on the wings of the wind. +Fasten on to Jiro. Batten on him. Become his invisible vampire. +Above all else, discover his associates. Run now to the bank and +cash this cheque. It repays the sum you advanced last night, and +provides money for expenses.”</p> +<p>“I must first see Capella off,” gasped the +detective.</p> +<p>“All the more reason that you should fly.”</p> +<p>Left to himself, the barrister compiled memoranda for an hour or +more. He read through what he had written.</p> +<p>“The web is spreading quickly,” he murmured. +“I wonder what sort of fly we shall catch! Is he buzzing +about under our very noses, or will he be an unknown variety? As +they say in the Argentine—<em>Quien sabe?</em>”</p> +<p>During the journey to Stowmarket he mastered the contents of the +bulky document sent from Glen Tochan. It contained a great many +irrelevant details, but he made the following notes:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>After the duel in 1763, David Hume, the man who avenged with his +sword the supposed injury inflicted upon his father by the first +Sir Alan Hume-Frazer, escaped to the Netherlands, and was never +heard of again.</p> +<p>There was a local tradition on the Scotch estate that five +Hume-Frazers would meet with violent deaths in England. The reason +for this singular belief was found in the recorded utterances of an +old nurse, popularly credited with the gift of second sight, who +prophesied, after the outlawry of the Humes in 1745, that there +would be five long-lived generations of both families, and that +five Frazers would die in their boots.</p> +<p>“Curiously enough,” commented the old gentleman who +supplied this information, “Aunt Elspeth’s prediction +is capable of two interpretations, owing to the fact that the first +Sir Alan Frazer assumed the additional surname of Hume. I have +absolutely no knowledge of any distinct branch of the Hume family. +David Hume’s sister was married to my ancestor at the time of +the duel.”</p> +<p>Admiral Cunningham, the hardy old salt who brought from Japan +the sword used by a Samurai to commit <em>hari-kara</em>, or +suicide by disembowelling, commanded the British vessels of the +combined squadron which sailed up the Bay of Yedo on July 6, 1853, +to intimidate the Mikado.</p> +<p>He narrowly escaped assassination at the hands of a two-sword +man, who was knocked down by a sailor and soundly kicked, after +being disarmed.</p> +<p>The Admiral brought home the two weapons taken from his +assailant, and the larger sword was still to be seen in the armoury +at Glen Tochan.</p> +<p>The three brothers, of whom the writer alone survived, +quarrelled over money matters about eight years before the murder +of the fifth baronet. The youngest, Charles, had entangled himself +in a disastrous speculation in the city, and bitterly reproached +Alan and David (the narrator) because they would not come to his +assistance.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The old gentleman laboured through many pages to explain the +reasons which actuated this decision, but Brett skipped all of +them.</p> +<p>Finally, he suspected no one of committing the crime itself, +which was utterly inexplicable.</p> +<p>At Stowmarket the barrister sought a few minutes’ +conversation with the stationmaster.</p> +<p>“Have you been long in charge of this station?” he +asked, when the official ushered him into a private office.</p> +<p>“Nearly five years, sir,” was the surprised +answer.</p> +<p>“Ah, then you know nearly all the members of the +Hume-Frazer family?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. I think so.”</p> +<p>“Do you remember the New Year’s Eve when the young +baronet was killed?”</p> +<p>“Yes, generally speaking, I do remember it.”</p> +<p>The stationmaster was evidently doubtful of the motives which +actuated this cross-examination, and resolved not to commit himself +to positive statements.</p> +<p>“You recollect, of course, that Mr. David Hume-Frazer was +arrested and tried for the murder of his cousin?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Very well. Now I want you to search your memory well and +tell me if you saw anyone belonging to the family in the station on +that New Year’s Eve. The terrible occurrence at Beechcroft +the same night must have fixed the facts in your mind.”</p> +<p>The stationmaster, a cautious man of kindly disposition, seemed +to be troubled by the interrogatory.</p> +<p>“Do you mind if I ask you, sir, why you are seeking this +information?” he inquired, after a thoughtful pause.</p> +<p>“A very proper question. Mr. David Hume-Frazer is a friend +of mine, and he has sought my help to clear away the mystery +attached to his cousin’s death.”</p> +<p>“But why do you come to me?”</p> +<p>“Because you are a very likely person to have some +knowledge on the point I raised. You see every person who enters or +leaves Stowmarket by train.”</p> +<p>“That is true. We railway men see far more than people +think,” said the official, with a smile. “But it is +very odd that you should be the first gentleman to think of talking +to me in connection with the affair, though I can assure you +certain things puzzled me a good deal at the time.”</p> +<p>“And what were they?”</p> +<p>“You are the gentleman who came here three days ago with +Mr. David, whom, by the way, I hardly recognised at +first?”</p> +<p>“Exactly.”</p> +<p>“Well, I suppose it is all right. I did not interfere +because I could not see my way clear to voluntarily give evidence. +Of course, were I summoned by the police, it would be a different +matter. The incidents of that New Year’s Eve fairly +bewildered me.”</p> +<p>“Indeed!”</p> +<p>“It was stated at the trial, sir, that Mr. David came from +Scotland that morning, left Liverpool Street at 3.20 p.m., and +reached Stowmarket at 5.22 p.m.”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Further, he was admittedly the second person to see his +cousin’s dead body, and remained at the Hall until arrested +by the police on a warrant.”</p> +<p>Brett nodded. The stationmaster’s statement promised to be +intensely interesting.</p> +<p>“Well, sir,” continued the man excitedly, “I +was mystified enough on New Year’s Eve, but after the murder +came out I thought I was fairly bewitched. That season is always a +busy one for us, what between parcels, passengers, and bad weather. +On the morning of December 31, I fancied I saw Mr. David leave the +London train due here at 12.15 midday. I only caught a glimpse of +him, because there was a crowd of people, and he was all muffled +up. I didn’t give the matter a second thought until I saw him +again step out of a first-class carriage at 2.20 p.m. I looked at +him rather sharp that time. He was differently dressed, and hurried +off without any luggage. He left the station quickly, so I imagined +I had been mistaken a couple of hours earlier. You could have +knocked me down with a feather when he appeared by the 5.22 p.m. +This time he had several leather trunks, and a footman from the +Hall was waiting for him on the platform. Excuse me, sir, but it +was a fair licker!”</p> +<p>“It must have been. I wonder you did not speak to +him!”</p> +<p>“I wish I had done so. Mr. David is usually a very affable +young gentleman, but, what between my surprise and the bustle of +getting the train away, I lost the opportunity. However, the +queerest part of my story is coming. I’m blest if he +didn’t leave here again by the last train at 5.58 p.m. I +missed his entrance to the station, but had a good look at him as +the train went out. He showed the ticket-examiner at Ipswich a +return half to London, because I asked by wire. Now what did it all +mean?”</p> +<p>“If I could tell you, it would save me much +trouble,” said Brett gravely. “But why did you not +mention these incidents subsequently?”</p> +<p>“Perhaps I was wrong, sir. I did not know what to do for +the best. Every one at the Hall, including Mr. David himself, would +have proved that I was a liar with respect to his two earlier +arrivals and his departure by the 5.58. I did not see what I would +accomplish except to arouse a strong suspicion that I had been +drinking.”</p> +<p>“Which would be unjustifiable?”</p> +<p>The stationmaster regained his dignity.</p> +<p>“I have been a teetotaler, sir, for more than twenty +years.”</p> +<p>“You are sure you are making no mistake?”</p> +<p>“Nothing of the kind, sir. I must have been very much +mistaken, but I did not think so at the time, and it bothered me +more than enough. If my evidence promised to be of any service to +Mr. David, no consideration would have kept me back. As it +was—”</p> +<p>“You thought it would damage him?”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid that was my idea.”</p> +<p>“I agree with you. It is far better that it never came to +the knowledge of the police. I am greatly obliged to +you.”</p> +<p>“May I ask, sir, if what I have told you will be useful in +your inquiry?”</p> +<p>“Most decidedly. Some day soon Mr. David Hume-Frazer will +thank you in person. I suppose you have no objection to placing +your observations in written form for my private use, and sending +the statement to me at the County Hotel?”</p> +<p>“Not the least, sir; good-day.”</p> +<p>The barrister walked to the hotel, having despatched his bag by +a porter.</p> +<p>“I suppose,” he said to himself, “that when +Winter came here he rushed straight to the police-station. How his +round eyes will bulge out of their sockets when I tell him what I +have just learnt.”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XIII" id="Ch_XIII">Chapter XIII</a></h3> +<h2>Two Women</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>The surprising information given by the stationmaster impressed +the barrister as so much unexpected trover which would assert its +value in the progress of events. He certainly did not anticipate +the discovery of three David Humes, though he had hoped to find +traces of two.</p> +<p>Before he reached his hotel he experienced a spasm of doubt. Was +his client telling the truth about his movements on that memorable +Christmas Eve? David’s story was fully corroborated by the +railway official and the servants at the Hall, whose sworn evidence +was in Brett’s possession. But how about Hume’s +counterfeit presentments arriving by the earlier +trains—coming from where and bound on what errands?</p> +<p>He resolutely closed down the trap-door opened by his +imagination.</p> +<p>“The pit does not yawn for me,” he communed, +“but for the man who killed Sir Alan. Assuredly he will fall +into it before many days. Nothing on earth can stop the meeting of +two or more of the hidden channels now being opened up, and when +they do meet there must be a dramatic outcome.”</p> +<p>His chief purpose in revisiting Stowmarket was to seek further +confidences from Mrs. Capella. He argued that the sudden journey of +her husband to Naples would cause her much uneasiness, and she +might now be inclined to reveal circumstances yet hidden.</p> +<p>He refused to take her at a disadvantage. From the hotel he sent +a cyclist messenger with a note asking for an interview, and within +an hour he received a cordial request to come at once.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, he was not a little astonished to find Helen +Layton awaiting him in Margaret’s boudoir.</p> +<p>The girl showed signs of recent agitation, but she explained her +presence quietly enough.</p> +<p>“Mrs. Capella sent for me when your note reached her, Mr. +Brett. She is greatly upset by recent events, and was actually on +the point of telegraphing to Davie to ask him to bring you here at +once when your message was handed to her. She will be here +presently. Please do not press her too closely to reveal anything +she wishes to withhold. She is so emotional and excited, poor +thing, that I fear her health may be endangered.”</p> +<p>Miss Layton’s words were not well chosen. She was +conscious of the fact, and blushed furiously when Brett received +her request with a friendly nod of comprehension.</p> +<p>“I do not know what to say for the best,” she went +on desperately. “I am so sorry for Margaret, and it seems to +me to be a terrible thing that my proposed marriage with her cousin +should be the innocent cause of all this trouble.”</p> +<p>“Is it the cause?” he asked.</p> +<p>“What else can it be? Certainly not Mr. Capella’s +foolish actions. If Davie and I were married, and far away from +this neighbourhood, we would probably never see him again. I assure +you I attach no serious significance to his mad fancy for me. The +real reason for the present bother is Davie’s desire to +reopen the story of the murder. Of that I am convinced.”</p> +<p>“Then what do you wish me to do?”</p> +<p>Helen’s eyes became suspiciously moist.</p> +<p>“How am I to decide?” she said tremulously. +“Naturally, I want the name of my future husband to be +cleared of the odium attached to it, but it is hard that this +cannot be done without driving a dear woman like Margaret to +despair, perhaps to the grave.”</p> +<p>“I do not see why the one course should involve the +other.”</p> +<p>“Nor do I; but the fact remains. Mr. Capella’s +decision to go to Naples is somehow bound up with it. Oh, dear! +During the last two years a dozen or more girls have been happily +married in this village without any one being killed, or running +away, or dying of grief. Why should those things descend upon my +poor little head?”</p> +<p>“Perhaps you are mistaken. Events have conspired to point +to you as the unconscious source of a good deal that has happened. +Personally, Miss Layton, I incline to the belief that you are no +more responsible than David Hume-Frazer. If the mystery of Sir +Alan’s death is ever solved, I feel assured that its genesis +will be found in circumstances not only beyond your control, but +wholly independent, and likely to operate in the same way if both +you and your <em>fiancé</em> had never either seen or heard +of Beechcroft Hall.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Mr. Brett,” she cried impulsively, “I +wish I could be certain of that!”</p> +<p>“Try and adopt my opinion,” he answered, with a +smile, for the girl’s dubiety was not very flattering.</p> +<p>“I know I am saying the wrong thing. I cannot help it. +Margaret’s distress tried me sorely. Be gentle with +her—that is all I ask.”</p> +<p>The door opened, and Mrs. Capella entered. Helen’s +observations had prepared Brett to some extent, yet he was shocked +to see the havoc wrought in Margaret’s appearance by days of +suffering and nights of sleepless agony.</p> +<p>Her face was drawn and ivory-white, her eyes unnaturally +brilliant, her lips bloodless and pinched. She was again garbed in +black, and the sombre effect of her dress supplied a startling +contrast to the deathly pallor of her features.</p> +<p>She recognised Brett’s presence by a silent bow, and sank +on to a couch. She was not acting, but really ill, overwrought, +inert, physically weak from want of food and sleep.</p> +<p>Helen ran to her side, and took her in a loving clasp.</p> +<p>“You poor darling!” she cried. “Why are you +suffering so?”</p> +<p>Now there was nothing on earth Brett detested so thoroughly as a +display of feminine sentiment, no matter how spontaneous or +well-timed. At heart he was conscious of kindred emotions. A +child’s cry, a woman’s sob, the groan of a despairing +man, had power to move him so strangely that he had more than once +allowed a long-sought opportunity to slip from his grasp rather +than sear his own soul by displaying callous indifference to the +sufferings of others.</p> +<p>The tears of these two, however, set his teeth on edge. What +were they whining about—the affections of a doll of a man +whose antics had been rightly treated by David when he proved to +Capella that there is nothing like leather.</p> +<p>For the barrister laboured under no delusions respecting either +woman. Margaret, who secretly feared her husband, was only pining +for his rekindled admiration, whilst Helen, though true as steel to +David Hume, could not be expected to regard the Italian’s +misplaced passion as utterly outrageous. No woman can absolutely +hate and despise a man for loving her, no matter how absurd or +impossible his passion may be. She may proclaim, even feel, a vast +amount of indignation, but in the secret recesses of her soul, +hidden perhaps from her own scrutiny, she can find excuses for +him.</p> +<p>Brett regarded Capella as an impressionable scamp, endowed with +a too vivid imagination, and he determined forthwith to stir his +hearers into revolt, defiance—anything but languishing regret +and condolence.</p> +<p>Margaret soon gave him an opportunity. Recovering her +self-possession with an effort, she said:</p> +<p>“I am glad you are here, Mr. Brett. Helen has probably +told you that we need your presence—not that I have much to +say to you, but I must have the advice of a wiser and clearer head +than my own in the present position of affairs.”</p> +<p>“Exactly so,” replied the barrister cheerily. +“As a preliminary to a pleasant chat, may I suggest a cup of +tea for each of us?”</p> +<p>The ladies were manifestly astonished. Tea! When broken hearts +were scattered around! The suggestion was pure bathos.</p> +<p>Margaret, with a touch of severity, permitted Brett to ring, and +coldly agreed with Helen’s declaration that she could not +think of touching any species of refreshment at such a moment.</p> +<p>“Then,” said Brett, advancing and holding out his +hand, “I will save your servants from needless trouble, Mrs. +Capella. I am equally emphatic in my insistence on food and drink +as primary necessities. For instance, a cup of good tea just now is +much more important in my eyes than your husband’s +vagaries.”</p> +<p>“Surely you will not desert me?” appealed +Margaret.</p> +<p>“Mr. Brett, how can you be so heartless?” cried +Helen.</p> +<p>“Your words cut me to the bone,” he answered, with +an easy smile, “but in this matter I must be adamant. My dear +ladies, pray consider. What a world we should live in if people +went without their meals because they were worried. Three days of +such treatment would end the South African War, give Ireland Home +Rule, bring even the American Senate to reason. A week of it would +extinguish the human race. If the system has such potentialities, +is it unreasonable to ask whether or not any single +individual—even Mr. Capella—is worth the loss of a cup +of tea because he chooses to go to Naples?”</p> +<p>A servant entered.</p> +<p>“Is it to be for three, or none?” inquired Brett, +compelling Margaret to meet his gaze.</p> +<p>“James, bring tea at once,” said Mrs. Capella.</p> +<p>The barrister accepted this partial surrender. He looked out +over the park.</p> +<p>“What lovely weather!” Brett exclaimed. “How +delightful it must be at the sea-side just now! Really, I am +greatly tempted to run up to Whitby for a few days. Have you ever +been there, Mrs. Capella? Or you, Miss Layton? No! Well, let me +recommend the north-east coast of Yorkshire as a cure for all ills. +Do you know that, within the next fortnight, you can, if energetic +enough, see from the cliffs at Whitby the sun rise and set in the +sea? It is the one place in England where such a sight is possible. +And the breeze there! When it blows from the north, it comes +straight from the Polar Sea. There is no land intervening. +Naples—evil-smelling, dirty Naples! Pah! Who but a lunatic +would prefer Naples to Whitby in July!”</p> +<p>Margaret was now incensed, Helen surprised, and even slightly +amused.</p> +<p>Brett rattled on, demanding and receiving occasional curt +replies. The tea came.</p> +<p>Whatever the failings of Beechcroft might be, they had not +reached the kitchen. Delightful little rolls of thin bread and +butter, sandwiches of cucumber and <em>paté de foie +gras</em>, tempting morsels of pastry, home-made jam, and crisp +biscuits showed that the housekeeper had unconsciously adopted +Brett’s view of her mistress’s needs.</p> +<p>Margaret, hardly knowing what she did, toyed at first with these +delicacies, until she yielded to the demands of her stimulated +appetite. Helen and Brett were unfeignedly hungry, and when Brett +rose to ring for more cucumber sandwiches, they all laughed.</p> +<p>“The first time I met you,” said Margaret, whose +cheeks began to exhibit a faint trace of colour, “I told you +that you could read a woman’s heart. I did not know you were +also qualified to act as her physician.”</p> +<p>“If the first part of my treatment is deemed successful, +then I hope you will adopt the second. I am quite in earnest +concerning Whitby, or Cromer, if you do not care to go far +north.”</p> +<p>“But, Mr. Brett, how can I possibly leave Beechcroft +now?”</p> +<p>“Did Mr. Capella consult you when he went to Naples? Are +you not mistress here? Take my advice. Give the majority of your +servants a holiday. Close your house, or, better still, have every +room dismantled on the pretence of a thorough renovation. Leave it +to paperhangers, plasterers, and caretakers. The rector may be +persuaded to allow Miss Layton to come with you to London, where +you should visit your dressmaker, for you can now dispense with +mourning. When your husband returns from Naples, let him rage to +the top of his bent. By that time I may be able to spare Mr. Hume +to look after both of you for a week or so. Permit your husband to +join you when he humbly seeks permission—not before. Believe +me, Mrs. Capella, if you have strength of will to adopt my +programme in its entirety, the trip to Naples may have results +wholly unexpected by the runaway.”</p> +<p>“Really, Margaret, Mr. Brett’s advice seems to me to +be very sensible. It happens, too, that my father needs a change of +air, and I think we could both persuade him to come with us to the +coast.”</p> +<p>Helen, like all well regulated young Englishwomen, quickly took +a reasonable view of the problem. Already Capella’s heroics +and his wife’s lamentations began to appear ridiculous.</p> +<p>Margaret looked wistfully at both of them.</p> +<p>“You do not understand why my husband has gone to +Naples,” she said slowly, seemingly revolving something in +her mind.</p> +<p>“I think I can guess his motive,” said the +barrister.</p> +<p>“Tell me your explanation of the riddle,” she +answered lightly, though a shadow of fear crossed her eyes.</p> +<p>“Soon after your marriage he imagined that he discovered +certain facts connected with your family—possibly relative to +your brother’s death—which served to estrange him from +you. Whatever they may be, whether existent or fanciful, you are in +no way responsible. He has gone to Naples to obtain proofs of his +suspicions, or knowledge. He will come back to terrorise you, +perhaps to seek revenge for imaginary wrongs. Therefore, I say, do +not meet him half-way by sitting here, blanched and fearful, until +it pleases him to return. Compel him to seek you. Let him find you +at least outwardly happy and contented, careless of his neglect, +and more pleased than otherwise by his absence. Tell him to try +Algiers in August and Calcutta in September.”</p> +<p>Margaret’s eyes were widely distended. Her mobile features +expressed both astonishment and anxiety. She covered her face with +her hands, in an attitude of deep perplexity.</p> +<p>They knew she was wrestling with the impulse to take them wholly +into confidence.</p> +<p>At last she spoke:</p> +<p>“I cannot tell you,” she said, “how comforting +your words are. If you, a stranger, can estimate the truth so +nearly, why should I torture myself because my husband is +outrageously unjust? I will follow your counsel, Mr. Brett. If +possible, Nellie and I will leave here to-morrow. Perhaps Mrs. +Eastham may be able to come with us to town. Will you order my +carriage? A drive will do me good. Come with Nellie and me, and +stay here to dinner. For to-day we may dispense with +ceremony.”</p> +<p>She left the room, walking with a firm and confident step.</p> +<p>Brett turned to Miss Layton.</p> +<p>“Capella is in for trouble,” he said, with a laugh. +“He will be forced to make love to his wife a second +time.”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XIV" id="Ch_XIV">Chapter XIV</a></h3> +<h2>Margaret Speaks Out</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>During the drive the presence of servants rendered conversation +impossible on the one topic that engrossed their thoughts.</p> +<p>The barrister, therefore, had an opportunity to display the +other side of his engaging personality, his singular knowledge of +the world, his acquaintance with the latest developments in +literature and the arts, and so much of London’s <em>vie +intime</em> as was suited to the ears of polite society.</p> +<p>Once he amused the ladies greatly by a trivial instance of his +faculty for deducing a definite fact from seemingly inadequate +signs.</p> +<p>He was sitting with his back to the horses. They passed a field +in which some people were working. Neither of the women paid +attention to the scene. Brett, from mere force of habit, took in +all details.</p> +<p>A little farther on he said: “Are we approaching a +village?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” answered Miss Layton, “a small place +named Needham.”</p> +<p>“Then it will not surprise me if, during the next two +minutes, we meet a horse and cart with a load of potatoes. The +driver is a young man in his shirt sleeves. Sitting by his side is +a brown-eyed maid in a poke bonnet. Probably his left arm follows +the line of her apron string.”</p> +<p>His hearers could not help being surprised by this prediction. +Helen leaned over the side and looked ahead.</p> +<p>“You are wrong this time, Mr. Brett,” she laughed +merrily. “The only vehicle between us and a turn in the road +is a dog-cart coming this way.”</p> +<p>“That merely shows the necessity of carefully choosing +one’s words. I should have said ‘overtake,’ not +‘meet.’”</p> +<p>The carriage sped swiftly along. Helen craned her head to catch +the first glimpse of the yet hidden stretch of road beyond the +turning.</p> +<p>“Good gracious!” she cried suddenly.</p> +<p>Even Margaret was stimulated to curiosity. She bent over the +opposite side.</p> +<p>“What an extraordinary thing!” she exclaimed.</p> +<p>Brett sat unmoved, anything in front being, of course, quite +invisible to him. On the box the coachman nudged the footman, as if +to say:</p> +<p>“Did you ever! Well, s’elp me!”</p> +<p>For, in the next few strides, the horses had to be pulled to one +side to avoid a cart laden with potatoes, driven by a coatless +youth who had one arm thrown gracefully around the waist of a girl +in a huge bonnet.</p> +<p>Nellie turned and stared at them in most unladylike manner, much +to their discomfiture.</p> +<p>“I do declare,” she cried, “the girl has brown +eyes! Mr. Brett, do tell us how you did it.”</p> +<p>“I will,” he replied gaily. “Those labourers +in a field half a mile away were digging potatoes. Among the women +sorters was a girl who was gazing anxiously in this direction, and +who resumed work in a very bad temper when another woman spoke to +her in a chaffing way. The gate was left open, and there were fresh +wheel-tracks in this direction. The men were all coatless, so I +argued a young man driving and a girl by his side, hence the +annoyance of the watcher in the field, owing particularly to the +position of his arm. The presence on the road of several potatoes, +with the earth still damp on them, added certainty to my +convictions. It is very easy, you see.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but how about the colour of the girl’s +eyes?”</p> +<p>“That was hazardous, to an extent. But five out of every +six women in this county have brown eyes.”</p> +<p>“Well, you may think it easy; to me it is +marvellous.”</p> +<p>“It is positively startling,” said Margaret +seriously; and if the barrister indulged in a fresh series of +deductions he remained silent on the topic.</p> +<p>He tried to lead the conversation to Naples, but was foiled by +Mrs. Capella’s positive disinclination to discuss Italy on +any pretext, and Miss Layton’s natural desire not to +embarrass her friend.</p> +<p>Indeed, so little headway did he make, so fully was +Margaret’s mind taken up with the new departure he had +suggested, that when the carriage stopped at the rectory to drop +Helen—who wished to tell her father about the dinner and to +change her costume—he was strongly tempted to wriggle out of +the engagement.</p> +<p>Inclination pulled him to his quiet sitting-room in the County +Hotel; impulse bade him remain and make the most of the meagre +opportunities offered by the drift of conversation.</p> +<p>“I hope,” said Helen, at parting, “that I may +persuade you to come here and dine with my father some evening when +Mrs. Capella and I are in town. If you take any interest in old +coins he will entertain you for hours.”</p> +<p>“Then I depend on you to bring an invitation to the Hall +this evening. I expect to be in Stowmarket next week.”</p> +<p>“Are you leaving to-morrow?” inquired Mrs. +Capella.</p> +<p>“I think so.”</p> +<p>“Would you care to walk to the house with me +now?”</p> +<p>“I will be delighted.”</p> +<p>So the carriage was sent off, and the two followed on foot. +Brett thought that impulse had led him aright.</p> +<p>Once past the lodge gates, Margaret looked at him suddenly, with +a quick, searching glance. Hume was not in error when he spoke of +her “Continental tricks of manner.”</p> +<p>“You wonder,” she said, “why I do not trust +you fully? You know that I am keeping something back from you? You +imagine that you can guess a good deal of what I am endeavouring to +hide?”</p> +<p>“To all those questions, I may generally answer +‘Yes.’”</p> +<p>“Of course. You observe the small things of life. The +larger events are built from them. Well, I can be candid with you. +My husband believes that I not only deceived him in regard to my +marriage, but he is, or was, very jealous of me.”</p> +<p>She paused, apparently unable to frame her words +satisfactorily.</p> +<p>“Having said so much,” put in the barrister gently, +“you might be more specific.”</p> +<p>His cool, even voice reassured her.</p> +<p>“I hardly know how best to express myself,” she +cried. “Question me. I will reply so far as I am +able.”</p> +<p>“Thank you. You have told me that you first met Mr. +Capella on New Year’s Eve two years ago, at Covent +Garden?”</p> +<p>“That is so.”</p> +<p>“Had you ever heard of him before?”</p> +<p>“Never. He was brought to my party by an Italian +friend.”</p> +<p>“Did the acquaintance ripen rapidly?”</p> +<p>“Yes. We found that our tastes were identical in many +respects. I did not know of my brother’s death until the 2nd +of January. No one in Beechcroft had my address, and my +solicitor’s office was closed on the holiday. Mr. Capella +called on me, by request, the day after the ball, and already I +became aware of his admiration. Italians are quick to fall in +love.”</p> +<p>“And afterwards?”</p> +<p>“When poor Alan’s murder appeared in the press, +Giovanni was among the first to write me a sympathetic letter. +Later on we met several times in London. I did not come to reside +in the Hall until all legal formalities were settled. A year +passed. I went to Naples. He came from his estate in Calabria, and +we renewed our friendship. You do not know, perhaps, that he is a +count in his own country, but we decided not to use the title +here.”</p> +<p>“Then Mr. Capella is not a poor man?”</p> +<p>“By no means. He is far from rich as we understand the +word. He is worth, I believe, £1,500 a-year. Why do you ask? +Had you the impression that he married me for my money?”</p> +<p>“There might well be other reasons,” thought Brett, +glancing at the beautiful and stately woman by his side. But it was +no moment for idle compliments.</p> +<p>“Such things have been done,” he said drily.</p> +<p>“Then disabuse your mind of the idea. He is a very proud +man. His estates are involved, and in our first few days of +happiness we did indeed discuss the means of freeing them, whilst +our marriage contract stipulates that in the event of either of us +predeceasing the other, and there being no children, the survivor +inherits. But all at once a cloud came between us, and Giovanni has +curtly declined any assistance by me in discharging his family +debt.”</p> +<p>Brett could not help remembering Capella’s passionate +declaration to Helen, but Margaret’s words read a new meaning +into it. Possibly the Italian was only making a forlorn hope attack +on a country maiden’s natural desire to shine amidst her +friends. Well, time would tell.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, Mrs. Capella’s outburst of confidence was +valuable.</p> +<p>“A cloud!” he said. “What sort of a +cloud?”</p> +<p>“Giovanni suddenly discovered that his father and mine +were deadly enemies. It was a cruel whim of Fate that brought us +together. Poor fellow! He was very fond of his father, and it seems +that a legacy of revenge was bequeathed to him against an +Englishman named Beechcroft. I remembered, too late, that he once +asked me how our house came to be so named, and I explained its +English meaning to him. I joked about it, and said the place should +rightly be called Yewcroft. During our honeymoon at Naples he +learnt that my father, for some reason, had travelled over a large +part of Italy in an assumed name—”</p> +<p>“How did he learn this?” broke in Brett.</p> +<p>“I cannot tell you. The affair happened like a flash of +lightning. We had been to Capri one afternoon, and I was tired. I +went to my room to rest for a couple of hours, fell asleep, and +awoke to find Giovanni staring at me in the most terrifying manner. +There was a fierce scene. We are both hot-tempered, and when he +accused me of a ridiculous endeavour to hoodwink him in some +indefinable way I became very indignant. We patched up a sort of +truce, but I may honestly say that we have not had a moment’s +happiness since.”</p> +<p>“But you spoke of jealousy also?”</p> +<p>“That is really too absurd. My cousin +Robert—”</p> +<p>“What, the gentleman from the Argentine?”</p> +<p>“Yes; I suppose David told you about him?”</p> +<p>“He did,” said the barrister grimly.</p> +<p>“Robert is poor, you may know. He is also very +good-looking.”</p> +<p>“A family trait,” Brett could not avoid saying.</p> +<p>“It has not been an advantage to us,” she replied +mournfully.</p> +<p>They were standing now opposite the library, almost on the spot +where her brother fell. They turned and strolled back towards the +lodge.</p> +<p>“Robert came to see me,” she resumed. “He paid +a visit in unconventional manner—waylaid me, in fact, in this +very avenue, and asked me to help him. He declined to meet my +husband, and was very bitter about my marriage to a foreigner. +However, I forgave him, for my own heart was sore in me, and he +also had been unfortunate in a different way. We had a long talk, +and I kissed him at parting. I afterwards found that Giovanni had +seen us from his bedroom. He thought Robert was David. I do not +think he believed me, even when I showed him the counterfoil of my +cheque-book, and the amount of a remittance I sent to Robert next +day.”</p> +<p>“How much was the sum?”</p> +<p>“Five hundred pounds.”</p> +<p>“And where did you send it?”</p> +<p>“To the Hotel Victoria.”</p> +<p>“In his own name?”</p> +<p>“Certainly.”</p> +<p>“Have you ever met him since?”</p> +<p>“Yes, unfortunately. I was in London, driving through +Regent Street in a hansom, when I saw him on the pavement. I +stopped the cab, and asked him to come to luncheon. We have no town +house, so I was staying at the Carlton alone. Yet how stupidly +compromising circumstances can occasionally become! I returned to +Beechcroft. I did not mention my meeting with Robert because, +indeed, Giovanni and I were hardly on speaking terms. One day, in +the library, I was sorting a number of accounts, when I was +summoned elsewhere for a few minutes. On top of the pile was my +receipted hotel bill. My husband came in, glanced at the paper, and +saw a charge for a guest. When I returned he asked me whom I had +been entertaining. I told him, and could not help blushing, the +affair being so flagrantly absurd.”</p> +<p>“Is that all?”</p> +<p>“I declare to you, Mr. Brett, that you are now as well +informed as I am myself concerning our estrangement.”</p> +<p>“There is, I take it, no objection on your part to the +inquiry I have undertaken—the fixing of responsibility for +your brother’s death, I mean?”</p> +<p>Margaret was silent for a few seconds before she said, in a low +and steady voice:</p> +<p>“We are a strange race, we Hume-Frazers. Somehow I felt, +when I first saw you and Davie together, that you would be bound up +with a crisis in my life. I dread crises. They have ever been +unfortunate for me. I cannot explain myself further. I know I am +approaching an eventful epoch. Well, I am prepared. Go on with your +work, in God’s name. I cannot become more unhappy than I +am.”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XV" id="Ch_XV">Chapter XV</a></h3> +<h2>An Unexpected Visitor</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>A clock in the church tower chimed the half-hour.</p> +<p>“We dine at seven,” said Mrs. Capella. “Let us +return to the house. I told the housekeeper to prepare a room for +you. Would you care to remain for the night? One of the grooms can +bring from Stowmarket any articles you may need.”</p> +<p>Brett declined the invitation, pleading a certain amount of work +to be done before he retired to rest, and his expectation of +finding letters or telegrams at the hotel.</p> +<p>They walked more rapidly up the avenue, and the barrister noted +the graceful ease of Margaret’s movements.</p> +<p>“Is it a fact” he asked, “that you suffer from +heart disease?”</p> +<p>She laughed, and said, with a certain charming hesitation:</p> +<p>“You are both doctor and lawyer, Mr. Brett. My heart is +quite sound. I have been foolish enough to seek relief from my +troubles in morphia. Do not be alarmed. I am not a +morphinée. I promised Nellie yesterday to stop it, and I am +quite certain to succeed.”</p> +<p>The dinner passed uneventfully.</p> +<p>As Brett was unable to change his clothes, neither of the +ladies, of course, appeared in elaborate costumes.</p> +<p>Helen wore a simple white muslin dress, with pale blue ribbons. +Margaret, mindful of the barrister’s hint concerning her +attire, now appeared in pale grey crêpe de chine, trimmed +with cerise panne velvet.</p> +<p>When she entered the drawing-room she almost startled the +others, so strong was the contrast between her present effective +garments and the black raiment she had affected constantly since +her return to Beechcroft after her marriage.</p> +<p>“The reform has commenced,” she cried gaily, seeing +how they looked at her. “My maid is in ecstasies about the +proposed visit to my dressmaker’s. She insisted on showing me +a study for an Ascot frock in the <em>Queen</em>.”</p> +<p>“Ah, she is a Frenchwoman?” said Brett.</p> +<p>“Yes; and pray what mystery have you elucidated +now?”</p> +<p>“Not a mystery, but a sober fact. A Frenchwoman must be in +the mode. Anybody else would have told you to copy yourself. +Fashions are a sealed book to me, but I do claim a certain taste in +colour effect, and you have gratified it.”</p> +<p>“And have you nothing nice to say to me, Mr. Brett?” +pouted Helen.</p> +<p>“So much that I must remain dumb. I have a vivid +recollection of Mr. Hume’s tragic air when he asked me to +give you ‘his kind regards.’”</p> +<p>“The dear boy! You have not yet told us why you left him +in London.”</p> +<p>In view of Mrs. Capella’s outspokenness concerning her +cousin, this was a poser. Brett fenced with the query, and the +announcement of dinner stopped all personal references. The +barrister’s eyes wandered round the dining-room. The shaded +candles on the table did not permit much light to fall on the +walls, but such portraits as were visible showed that David was +right when he said the “Hume-Frazers were all alike.” +They were a handsome, determined-looking race, strong, dour, +inflexible.</p> +<p>The night was beautifully fine. The day seemed loth to die, and +the twilight lingering on the pleasant landscape tempted them +outside, after the butler had handed Brett a box of excellent +cigars.</p> +<p>They went through the conservatory into the park, and sauntered +over the springy pastureland, whilst Brett amused the ladies by a +carefully edited account of his visit to the Jiro family.</p> +<p>An hour passed in pleasant chat. Then Miss Layton thought it was +time she went home, and Brett proposed to escort her to the +Rectory, subsequently picking up his conveyance at the inn.</p> +<p>They walked obliquely across the park towards the house, +regaining it through a clump of laurels and the conservatory.</p> +<p>It chanced that for a moment they were silent. Margaret led the +way. Helen followed. Brett came close behind.</p> +<p>When the mistress of Beechcroft Hall stepped on to the turf in +front of the library, a man who was standing under the yews a +little way down the avenue moved forward to accost her.</p> +<p>She uttered a little cry of alarm and retreated quickly.</p> +<p>“Why, Davie,” cried Helen, “surely it cannot +be you!”</p> +<p>The stranger made no reply, but paused irresolutely. Even in the +dim light Brett needed no second glance to reveal to him the +astounding coincidence that this mysterious prowler was Robert +Hume-Frazer.</p> +<p>“Good evening,” he said politely. “Do you wish +to see your cousin?”</p> +<p>“And who the devil may you be?” was the +uncompromising answer.</p> +<p>“A friend of Mrs. Capella’s.”</p> +<p>“H’m! I’m glad to hear it. I thought you could +not be that beastly Italian.”</p> +<p>“You are candour itself; but you have not answered +me?”</p> +<p>“About seeing my cousin? No. I will call when she is less +engaged.”</p> +<p>He turned to go, but Brett caught him by the shoulder.</p> +<p>“Will you come quietly,” he said, “or by the +scruff of the neck?”</p> +<p>The other man wheeled round again. That he feared no personal +violence was evident. Indeed, it was possible Brett had +over-estimated his own strength in suggesting the alternative.</p> +<p>The Argentine cousin laughed boisterously.</p> +<p>“By the Lord Harry,” he cried, “I like your +style! I will come in, if only to have a good look at +you.”</p> +<p>They approached the two frightened women. Margaret had +recognised his voice, and now advanced with outstretched hand.</p> +<p>“I am glad to see you, Robert,” she said in tones +that vibrated somewhat. “Why did you not let me know you were +coming?”</p> +<p>“Because I did not know myself until an hour before I left +London. Moreover, you might have wired and told me to stop away, so +I sailed without orders.”</p> +<p>The position was awkward. The new-comer had evidently walked +from Stowmarket. He had the appearance of a gentleman, soiled and a +trifle truculent, perhaps, but a man of birth and good +breeding.</p> +<p>Helen was gazing at him in sheer wonderment. He was so extremely +like David that, at a distance, it was easy to confuse the one with +the other.</p> +<p>Brett, too, examined him curiously. He recalled “Rabbit +Jack’s” pronouncement—“either the chap +hisself or his dead spit.”</p> +<p>But it behoved him to rescue the ladies from an +<em>impasse</em>.</p> +<p>“When you reached Stowmarket did the stationmaster exhibit +any marked interest in you?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“Well, now, that beats the band,” cried Robert. +“He looked at me as though I had seven heads and horns to +match. But how did you know that?”</p> +<p>“Merely on account of your marked resemblance to David +Hume-Frazer. It puzzled the stationmaster some time ago. By the +way, you appear to like the shade of the yew trees outside. Do you +always approach Beechcroft Hall in the same way?”</p> +<p>The ex-sailor’s bold eyes did not fall before the +barrister’s penetrating glance.</p> +<p>“What the deuce has it got to do with you?” he +replied fiercely. “Who has appointed you grand inquisitor to +the family, I should like to know? Margaret, I beg your pardon, but +this chap—”</p> +<p>“Is my friend, Mr. Reginald Brett. He is engaged in +unravelling the manner and cause of poor Alan’s death. He has +my full sanction, Robert, and was brought here, in the first +instance, by David. I hope, therefore, you will treat him more +civilly.”</p> +<p>“I will treat him as he treats me. I owe him nothing, at +any rate.”</p> +<p>They were talking in the ill-fated library, having entered the +house through the centre window. The unbidden guest faced the +others, and although the cloud of suspicion hung heavily upon him, +the barrister was far too shrewd an observer of human nature to +attribute his present defiant attitude to other than its true +origin—a feeling of humiliated pride.</p> +<p>Brett understood that to question him further was to risk a +scene—a thing to be avoided at all costs.</p> +<p>“No doubt,” he said, “you wish to speak +privately to Mrs. Capella. I was on the point of escorting Miss +Layton to her house. Shall I return and drive you back to +Stowmarket? I will be here in fifteen minutes.”</p> +<p>“It would be better than walking,” replied Robert +wearily, settling into a chair with the air of a man physically +tired and mentally perturbed.</p> +<p>Again there was a dramatic pause. Helen, more alarmed than she +wished to admit, gave Margaret a questioning look, and received a +strained but reassuring smile.</p> +<p>“Then I will go now—” she began, but instantly +stopped. Like the others, she heard the quick trot of a horse, and +the sound of rapid wheels approaching from the lodge.</p> +<p>“Who on earth can this be?” cried Margaret, +blanching visibly,</p> +<p>The vehicle, a dog-cart, drew nearer. They all went to the +window. Even the indifferent Robert rose and joined them.</p> +<p>Helen startled them by running out to the side of the drive.</p> +<p>“This time I am not mistaken,” she cried +hysterically. “It is Davie!”</p> +<p>The proceedings of the gentleman who jumped from the dog-cart +left no doubt on the point. He brazenly kissed her, and in her +excitement she seemed to like it.</p> +<p>She evidently whispered something to him, for his first words to +Brett were:</p> +<p>“How did you find out—”</p> +<p>But the barrister was not anxious to let the cousin from +Argentina into the secret of the search for him.</p> +<p>“I have found out nothing,” he interrupted. “I +have been at Beechcroft all the afternoon and evening. Meanwhile, +you must be surprised to meet Mr. Robert Hume-Frazer here so +unexpectedly.”</p> +<p>David luckily grasped his friend’s intention. Such +information as he possessed must wait until they were alone. +“How d’ye do, Bob?” he said, frankly holding out +his hand. “Why have you left us alone all those years, to +turn up at last in this queer way?”</p> +<p>The young man’s kind greeting, his manly attitude, had an +unlooked-for effect.</p> +<p>Robert ignored the proffered hand. He reached for his hat.</p> +<p>“I feel like a beastly interloper,” he growled +huskily. “Accept my apologies, Margaret, and you, Miss +Layton. I will call in the morning. Mr. Brett, if you still hold to +your offer, I will await you at the lodge, or any other place you +care to name.”</p> +<p>With blazing eyes, and mouth firmly set, he endeavoured to reach +the open window. Brett barred his way.</p> +<p>“Sit down, man,” he said sternly. “Why are you +such a fool as to resist the kindness offered to you? I tried to +make matters easy for you. Now I must speak plainly. You are weak +with hunger.”</p> +<p>He had seen what the others had missed. The colour in +Robert’s face was due to exposure, but he was otherwise drawn +and haggard. His clothes were shabby. He had walked from Stowmarket +because he could not afford to hire any means of conveyance.</p> +<p>The abject confession compelled by Brett’s words was too +much for him. He again collapsed into a chair and covered his face +with his hands.</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XVI" id="Ch_XVI">Chapter XVI</a></h3> +<h2>The Cousins</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Brett was the only person present who kept his senses. Margaret +was too shocked, the lovers too amazed, to speak coherently.</p> +<p>“Mr. Hume-Frazer has allowed himself to become run +down,” said the barrister, with the nonchalance of one who +discussed the prospects of to-morrow’s weather. “What +he needs at the moment is some soup and a few biscuits. You, Mrs. +Capella, might procure these without bringing the servants here, +especially if Miss Layton were to help you.”</p> +<p>Without a word, the two ladies quitted the room.</p> +<p>Robert looked up.</p> +<p>“You ring like good metal,” he said to the +barrister. “Is there any liquor in the dining-room? I feel a +trifle hollow about the belt. A drink would do me good.”</p> +<p>“Not until you have eaten something first,” was the +firm answer. “Are you so hard up that you could not buy +food?”</p> +<p>“Well, the fact is, I have been on my beam ends during the +past week. To-day I pawned a silver watch, but unfortunately +returned to my lodgings, where my landlady made such a fiendish row +about the bill that I gave her every penny. Then I pawned my +overcoat, raising the exact fare to Stowmarket. I could not even +pay for a ’bus from Gower Street to Liverpool Street. All I +have eaten to-day was a humble breakfast at 8.30 a.m., and I +suppose the sun and the journey wore me out. Still, you must be +jolly sharp to see what was the matter. I thought I kept my end up +pretty well.”</p> +<p>David sat down by his side.</p> +<p>“Forgive me, old chap,” continued Robert. “It +broke me up to see that you were happy after all your troubles. You +are engaged to a nice girl; Alan is dead; I am the only unlucky +member of the family.”</p> +<p>The man was talking quite sincerely. He even envied his murdered +cousin. Nothing in his words, his suspicious mode of announcing his +presence, the vague doubts that shadowed his past career, puzzled +Brett so greatly as that chance phrase.</p> +<p>The ladies came back, laden with good things from the kitchen, +which they insisted on carrying themselves, much to the +astonishment of the servants.</p> +<p>All women are born actresses. Their behaviour before the +domestics left the impression that some huge joke was toward in the +library.</p> +<p>The tactful barrister drew Hume and Helen outside to discuss +immediate arrangements. David promised faithfully to return from +the rectory in fifteen minutes, and Brett re-entered the +library.</p> +<p>Robert Hume-Frazer gave evidence of his semi-starvation. He +tried to disguise his eagerness, but in vain. Biscuits, sandwiches, +and soup vanished rapidly, until Margaret suggested a further +supply.</p> +<p>“No, Rita,” said her cousin; “I have fasted +too often on the Pampas not to know the folly of eating too +heartily. I will be all right now, especially when Mr. Brett +produces the whisky he spoke about.”</p> +<p>The barrister brought a decanter from the dining-room. The +stranger was still an enigma. He placed bottle and glass on the +table, wondering to what extent the man would help himself.</p> +<p>The quantity was small and well diluted. So this member of the +family was not a drunkard.</p> +<p>“How did you come to be in such a state?” asked +Margaret nervously. “It is hardly six months since I sent you +£500; not a very large sum, I admit, but all you asked me +for, and more than enough to live on for a much longer +period.”</p> +<p>Robert laughed pleasantly. It was the first token of returning +confidence. He reached for a cigar, and sought Margaret’s +permission to smoke.</p> +<p>“My dear girl,” he answered, “I am really a +very unfortunate person. I own a hundred thousand acres of the best +land in South America, and I have been in England nearly two years +trying to raise capital to develop it. If I owned a salted reef or +an American brewery I could have got the money for the asking. +Because my stock-raising proposition is a sound paying concern, +requiring a delay of at least three years before a penny of profit +can be realised, I have worn my boots out in climbing up and down +office stairs to no purpose. Out of your £500, nearly +£400 went out at once to pay arrears of Government taxation +to save my property. Of the remaining hundred I spent fifty in a +fortnight on dinners and suppers given to a gang of top-hatted +scoundrels, who, I found subsequently, were not worth a red cent. +They hoped to fleece me in some way, and their very association +discredited me in the eyes of one or two honest men. Oh, I have had +a bad time of it, I can assure you!”</p> +<p>“Why did you not write to me again?”</p> +<p>He looked at her steadily before he explained:</p> +<p>“Because you are a woman.”</p> +<p>“What has that got to do with it? I am your relative, and +rich. How much do you want? If your scheme is really sound, I +imagine my solicitors might sanction my co-operation.”</p> +<p>Again he hesitated.</p> +<p>“Thank you, Rita. You are a good sort. But I am not here +on a matter of high finance. I want you to lend me, say, +£250. I will return to the Argentine, and take twenty years +to accomplish what I could do in five with the necessary +capital.”</p> +<p>“Come and see me in the morning. The sum you name is +absurdly small, in any case. Perhaps Mr. Brett will accompany you. +His advice will be useful to both of us. Come early. I leave here +to-morrow.”</p> +<p>“Going away! Where to?”</p> +<p>“To Whitby, in Yorkshire.”</p> +<p>“Well, that is curious,” said Robert, who clearly +did not like to question her about her husband.</p> +<p>“Mr. Capella is in Naples,” she added. “I +cannot say when he will return.”</p> +<p>Her cousin’s look was eloquent of his thoughts. He did not +like the Italian, for some inexplicable reason, for to +Margaret’s knowledge they had never met.</p> +<p>The barrister naturally did not interfere in this family +conclave. He listened intently, and had already drawn several +inferences from the man’s words. For the life of him he could +not classify Robert Hume-Frazer. The man was either a consummate +scoundrel, the cold-blooded murderer of Margaret’s brother, +or a maligned and ill-used man.</p> +<p>Within a few minutes he would be called upon to treat him in one +category or the other. A few questions might elucidate matters +considerably.</p> +<p>The hiatus in the conversation created by the mention of Capella +gave him an opportunity.</p> +<p>“Did you endeavour to raise the requisite capital for your +estate in London only?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“No; I tried elsewhere,” was the quick +rejoinder.</p> +<p>“Here, for instance, on the New Year’s Eve before +last?”</p> +<p>“Now, how the blazes did you learn that?” came the +fierce demand, the speaker’s excitement rendering him +careless of the words he used.</p> +<p>“It is true, then?”</p> +<p>“Yes, but—”</p> +<p>“Robert!—” Margaret’s voice was choking, +and her face was woefully white once more—“were +you—here—when Alan—was killed?”</p> +<p>“No, not exactly. This thing bewilders me. Let me explain. +I saw him that afternoon. We had a furious quarrel. I never told +you about it, Rita. It was a family matter. I do not hold you +responsible. I—”</p> +<p>“Hold me responsible! What do you mean? Did you kill my +brother?”</p> +<p>She rose to her feet. Her eyes seemed to peer into his soul. He, +too, rose and faced her.</p> +<p>“By God,” he cried, “this is too much! Why +didn’t you ask your husband that question?”</p> +<p>“Because my husband, with all his faults, is innocent of +that crime. He was with me in London the night that Alan met his +death.”</p> +<p>“And I, too, was in London. I left Stowmarket at six +o’clock.”</p> +<p>“Having reached the place at 2.20?” interposed +Brett.</p> +<p>The other turned to him with eager pleading.</p> +<p>“In Heaven’s name, Mr. Brett, if you know all about +my movements that day, disabuse Margaret’s mind of the +terrible idea that prompted her question.”</p> +<p>“Why did you come here on that occasion?”</p> +<p>“The truth must out now. My two uncles swindled my +father—that is, Margaret, your father led my Uncle David with +him in a most unjust proceeding. My father took up some risky +business in City finance, on the verbal understanding with his +brothers that they would share profits or bear losses equally. The +speculation failed, and your father basely withdrew from the +compact, persuading the other brother to follow his lead. Perhaps +there may have been some justification for his action, but my poor +old dad was very bitter about it. The affair killed him. I made my +own way in the world, and came here to ask Alan to undo the wrong +done years ago, and help me to get on my feet. He was not in the +best of tempers, and we fell out badly, using silly recriminations. +I went back to London, and next day travelled to Monte Carlo, where +I lost more money than I could afford. Believe me, I never even +knew of Alan’s death until I saw the reports of Davie’s +trial.”</p> +<p>“Why did you not come forward then?”</p> +<p>“Why? No man could have better reasons. First, it seemed +to me that Davie had killed him. Then, when the second trial ended, +I came to the conclusion—Lord help my wits—that there +was some underhanded work about the succession to the property, and +my doubts appeared to receive confirmation by the news of +Margaret’s marriage. In any case, if I turned up to give +evidence, I could only have helped to hang one of my own +relatives.”</p> +<p>“It never occurred to you that you might be +suspected?”</p> +<p>“Never, on my honour! The suggestion is preposterous. You +seem to know everything. Tell Margaret that I did leave Stowmarket +by the train I named, that I stayed in the Hotel Victoria the same +night, and left for the Riviera at 11 a.m. next day. Margaret, +don’t you believe me? You and I were sweethearts as children. +Can you think I murdered your brother? Why, dear girl, I refrained +from seeing your husband lest I should wound you by revealing my +thoughts.”</p> +<p>He placed his hands on her shoulders, and looked at her with +such genuine emotion that she lifted her swimming eyes to his, and +faltered:</p> +<p>“Forgive me, Robert, though I can never forgive myself. +Your words shocked me. I am sorry. I am not mistaken now. You are +innocent as I am.”</p> +<p>“You have also convinced me, Mr. Frazer,” said Brett +quietly.</p> +<p>Robert gazed quickly from one to the other. Then he laughed +constrainedly.</p> +<p>“I have been accused of several offences in my +time,” he said, “but this notion that got into your +heads licks creation.”</p> +<p>“What is the matter now?” said David Hume, entering +through the window.</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XVII" id="Ch_XVII">Chapter XVII</a></h3> +<h2>“Cherchez La Femme”</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>The three men drove to Stowmarket in the same vehicle, the +grooms returning in the second dog-cart.</p> +<p>On the way Robert Frazer—who may be designated by his +second surname to distinguish him from his cousin—was anxious +to learn what had caused the present recrudescence of inquiry into +Alan’s death. This was easily explained by David, and Brett +took care to confine the conversation to general details.</p> +<p>Frazer was naturally keen to discover how the barrister came to +be so well posted in his movements, and David listened eagerly +whilst Brett related enough of the stationmaster’s story to +clear up that point.</p> +<p>Hume broke in with a laugh:</p> +<p>“That shows why he was so unusually attentive when I +arrived this evening. He spotted me getting out of the train, and +would not leave me until I was clear of the station. He was +evidently determined to ascertain my exact identity without any +mistake, for he began by asking if I were not Mr. David +Hume-Frazer, laying stress on my Christian name. It surprised me a +little, because I thought the old chap knew me well.”</p> +<p>“Are you both absolutely certain that there are no other +members of your family in existence?” asked Brett.</p> +<p>“It depends on how many of our precious collection you are +acquainted with,” said Robert.</p> +<p>“The only person Mr. Brett is not acquainted with is my +father,” exclaimed David stiffly.</p> +<p>“I was not alluding to him, of course. Indeed, I had no +individual specially in my mind.”</p> +<p>“Surely you had some motive for your remark?” +questioned David. “The only remaining relative is Mrs. +Capella.”</p> +<p>“There again—how do you define the word +‘relative.’ I suppose, Mr. Brett, you are fairly well +posted in the history of our house?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Well, has it never struck you that there was something +queer about the manner of my Uncle Alan’s +marriage—Margaret’s father, I mean?”</p> +<p>“Perhaps. What do you know about it?”</p> +<p>“Nothing definite. When I was a mid-shipman on board the +<em>Northumberland</em> I have a lively recollection of a fiendish +row between a man named Somers and another officer who passed some +chaffing remark about my respected uncle’s goings on in +Italy. The officer in question had forgotten, or never knew, that +Sir Alan married Somers’s sister—they were Bristol +people, I think—but he stuck to it that Sir Alan had an +Italian wife. He had seen her.”</p> +<p>Brett was driving, Frazer sitting by his side, and David leaning +over the rail from the back seat. Had a bombshell dropped in their +midst the two others could not have been more startled than by +Robert’s chance observation.</p> +<p>“Good Heavens!” cried Hume, “why has Capella +gone to Italy?”</p> +<p>“That question may soon be answered,” said +Brett.</p> +<p>“Was that one of the other reasons you hinted at in the +library when telling us why you did not volunteer evidence at the +trial?” he asked Robert.</p> +<p>“It was. The cat is out of the bag now. I did not know +where the affair might end, so I held my tongue. It also accounts +for my unwillingness to meet Capella. I am very fond of Margaret. +She is straight as a die, and I would not do anything to cause her +suffering. In a word, I let sleeping dogs lie. If you can manage +your matrimonial affairs without all this fuss, Davie, I should +advise you to do the same.”</p> +<p>“What are you hinting at? What new mystery is this?” +cried Hume.</p> +<p>“Let us keep to solid fact for the present,” +interposed the barrister. “I wish I had met you sooner, Mr. +Frazer. I would be nearing Naples now, instead of entering +Stowmarket Have you any further information?”</p> +<p>“None whatever. Even what I have told you is the +recollection of a boy who did not understand what the row was +about. Where does it lead us, anyhow? What is known about +Capella?”</p> +<p>“Very little. Unless I am much mistaken, he will soon tell +us a good deal himself. I am beginning to credit him with the +possession of more brains and powers of malice than I was at first +inclined to admit. He is a dangerous customer.”</p> +<p>“Look here,” exclaimed Robert angrily. “If +that wretched little Italian annoys Margaret in any way I will +crack his doll’s head.”</p> +<p>They reached the hotel, where a room was obtained for Frazer, +and David undertook to equip him out of his portmanteau. Brett left +the cousins to arrange matters, and hurried to his sitting-room, +where a number of telegrams awaited him.</p> +<p>Those from Hume he barely glanced at. David could tell his own +story.</p> +<p>There were three from Winter. The first, despatched at 1.10 +p.m., read:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“Capella and valet left by club train. Nothing doing +Japanese.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The second was timed 4.30 p.m.:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“Jap, accompanied by tall, fat man, left home 2.45. They +separated Piccadilly Circus. Followed Jap—(“Oh, +Winter!” groaned Brett)—and saw him enter British +Museum. Four o’clock he met fat man again outside Tottenham +Court Road Tube Station. They drove west in hansom. Heard address +given. Am wiring before going same place.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This telegram had been handed in at an Oxford Street office.</p> +<p>The third, 7.30., p.m.:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“Nothing important. All quiet. Wiring before your local +office closes.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The facetious Winter had signed these messages +“Snow.”</p> +<p>Brett promptly wrote a telegram to the detective’s private +address:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“Your signature should have been ‘Frost.’ If +that fat man turns up again follow him. Call on Jap and endeavour +to see his wife. You may be sadder but wiser. Meet me Victoria +Street, 5 p.m. to-day.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>He called a waiter and gave instructions that this message +should be sent off early next morning. Then he lit a cigar to +soothe his disappointment.</p> +<p>“I cannot emulate the House of Commons bird,” he +mused, “or at this moment I would be close to Jiro’s +flat in Kensington, and at the same time crossing Lombardy in an +express. What an ass Winter is, to be sure, whenever a subtle +stroke requires an ingenious guard. Jiro dresses his wife in male +attire and sends her on an errand he dare not perform himself. The +fact that they depart together from their residence is diplomatic +in itself. If they are followed, the watcher is sure to shadow Jiro +and leave his unknown friend. Just imagine Winter dodging Jiro +around the Rosetta Stone or the Phoebus Apollo, whilst the woman is +visiting some one or some place of infinite value to our search. It +is positively maddening.”</p> +<p>Perhaps, in his heart, Brett felt that Winter was not so greatly +to blame. The sudden appearance on the scene of a portly and +respectable stranger was disconcerting, but could hardly serve as +an excuse for leaving Jiro’s trail at the point of +bifurcation.</p> +<p>Moreover, it is difficult to suspect stout people of criminal +tendencies. Winter had the best of negative evidence that they are +not adapted for “treasons, spoils, and stratagems.” +Even a convicted rogue, if corpulent, demands sympathy.</p> +<p>But Brett was very sore. He stamped about the room and kicked +unoffending chairs out of the way. His unfailing instinct told him +that a rare opportunity had been lost. It was well for Winter that +he was beyond reach of the barrister’s tongue. A valid +defence would have availed him naught.</p> +<p>David entered.</p> +<p>“I just seized an opportunity—” he commenced +eagerly, but Brett levelled his cigar at him as if it were a +revolver.</p> +<p>“You want to tell me,” he cried, “that before +you were two hours in Portsmouth you ascertained Frazer’s +address from an old friend. You caught the next train for London, +went to his lodgings, encountered a nagging landlady, and found +that your cousin had taken his overcoat to the pawnbroker’s +to raise money for his fair to Stowmarket You drove frantically to +Liverpool Street, interviewed a smart platform inspector, and he +told you—”</p> +<p>“That all I had to do was to ask Brett, and he would not +only give me a detailed history of my own actions, but produce the +very man he sent me in search of,” interrupted David, +laughing. Nothing the barrister said or did could astonish him +now.</p> +<p>“What has upset you?” he went on. “I hope I +made no mistakes.”</p> +<p>“None. Your conduct has been irreproachable. But you erred +greatly in the choice of your parents. There are far too many +Hume-Frazers in existence.”</p> +<p>“Please tell me what is the matter?”</p> +<p>“Read those.” Brett tossed the detective’s +telegrams across the table.</p> +<p>Hume puzzled over them.</p> +<p>“I think we ought to know who that fat man was,” he +said.</p> +<p>“We do know. She is a fat woman, the ex-barmaid from +Ipswich. Next time, they will send out the youthful Jiro in a +perambulator.”</p> +<p>“But why are you so furious about it?” demanded +Hume. “Was it so important to ascertain what she did during +that hour and a quarter?”</p> +<p>“Important! It is the only real clue given us since +‘Rabbit Jack’ saw a man like you standing motionless in +the avenue.”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XVIII" id="Ch_XVIII">Chapter XVIII</a></h3> +<h2>Further Complications</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Brett devoted half an hour to Frazer’s business affairs +next morning. David was present, and the result of the conclave is +shown by the following excerpt from a letter the barrister sent by +them to Mrs. Capella, incidentally excusing his personal attendance +at the Hall:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“In my opinion, your cousin David and you should guarantee +the payment of the land-tax on Mr. Frazer’s +estate—£650 per annum—for five years. You should +give him a reasonable sum to rehabilitate his wardrobe and pay the +few small debts he has contracted, besides allowing him a weekly +stipend to enable him to live properly for another year. I will +place him in touch with sound financial people, who will exploit +his estate if they think the prospects are good, and you can +co-operate in the scheme, if you are so advised by your solicitors, +with whom the financiers I recommend will carry weight. Failing +support in England, Mr. Frazer says he can make his own way in the +Argentine if helped in the manner I suggest.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>He explained to the two young men that his movements that day +would be uncertain. If the ladies still adhered to their resolve to +proceed to London forthwith, the whole party would stay at the same +hotel. In that event they should send a telegram to his Victoria +Street chambers, and he would dine with them. Otherwise they must +advise him of their whereabouts.</p> +<p>Left to himself, he curled up in an arm-chair, knotting legs and +arms in the most uncomfortable manner, and rendering it necessary +to crane his neck before he could remove a cigar from his lips.</p> +<p>In such posture, alternated with rapid walking about the room, +he could think best.</p> +<p>The waiter, not knowing that the barrister had remained in the +hotel, came in to see what trifles might be strewed about table or +mantelpiece in the shape of loose “smokes” or broken +hundreds of cigarettes.</p> +<p>Like most people, his eyes could only observe the expected, the +normal. No one was standing or sitting in the usual +way—therefore the room was empty.</p> +<p>A box of Brett’s Turkish cigarettes was lying temptingly +open. He advanced.</p> +<p>“Touch those, and I slay you,” snapped Brett. +“Your miserable life is not worth one of them.”</p> +<p>The man jumped as if he had been fired at. The barrister, coiled +up like a boa-constrictor, glared at him in mock fury.</p> +<p>“I beg pardon, sir,” he blurted out, “I +didn’t know you was in.”</p> +<p>“Evidently. A more expert scoundrel would have stolen them +under my very nose. You are a bungler.”</p> +<p>“I really wasn’t goin’ to take any, +sir—just put them away, that is all.”</p> +<p>“In that packet,” said Brett, “there are +eighty-seven cigarettes. I count them, because each one is an +epoch. I don’t count the cigars in the sideboard.”</p> +<p>“I prefer cigars,” grinned the waiter.</p> +<p>“So I see. You have two of the landlord’s best +‘sixpences’ in the left pocket of your waistcoat at +this moment.”</p> +<p>“Well, if you ain’t a fair scorcher,” the man +gasped.</p> +<p>“What, you rascal, would you call me names?”</p> +<p>Brett writhed convulsively, and the waiter backed towards the +door.</p> +<p>“No, sir, I was callin’ no names. We don’t get +too many perks—we waiters don’t, sir. I was out of bed +until one o’clock and up again at six. That’s wot I +call hard work, sir.”</p> +<p>“It is outrageous. Take five cigars.”</p> +<p>“Thank you kindly, sir.”</p> +<p>“What kept you up till one o’clock?”</p> +<p>“Gossip, sir—just silly gossip. All about Mrs. +Capella, an’ Beechcroft, an’ I don’t know +wot”</p> +<p>“Indeed, and who was so interested in these topics as to +spoil your beauty sleep?”</p> +<p>“The new gentleman, who is so like Mr. David.”</p> +<p>“How very interesting,” said the barrister, who +certainly did not expect this revelation.</p> +<p>“It seemed to be interesting to ’im, sir. You see, +the ’ouse is pretty full, and when you brought ’im +’ere last night, sir, the bookkeeper gev’ ’im the +room next to mine. Last thing, I fetched the gentleman a Scotch +an’ soda an’ a cigar. ’E said ’e +couldn’t sleep, and ’e was lookin’ at a fotygraf. +I caught a squint at it, an’ I sez, ‘Beg parding, sir, +but ain’t that Mrs. Capella—Miss Margaret as used to +be?’ That started ’im.”</p> +<p>“You surprise me.”</p> +<p>“And the gentleman surprised me,” confided the +waiter, whose greatest conversational effects were produced by +quickly adapting remarks made to him. “P’r’aps +you are not aware, sir, that the lady’s Eye-talian +’usbin’ ain’t no good?”</p> +<p>“I have heard something of the sort.”</p> +<p>“Then you’ve heard something right, sir. They do say +as ’ow ’e beats her.”</p> +<p>“The scoundrel!”</p> +<p>“Scoundrel! You should ’ave seen No. 18 last night +when I tole ’im that. My conscience! ’E went on awful, +’e did. ’E seemed to be mad about Mrs. +Capella.”</p> +<p>“He is her cousin.”</p> +<p>“Cousin! That won’t wash, sir, beggin’ your +pardon. You an’ me knows better than that”</p> +<p>“I tell you again he is her cousin.”</p> +<p>The waiter absent-mindedly dusted the back of a chair.</p> +<p>“Well, sir, it isn’t for the likes of me to be +contradictious, but I’ve got two sisters an’ +’arf-a-dozen cousins, an’ I don’t go +kissin’ their pictures an’ swearin’ to ’ave +it out with their ’usbin’s.”</p> +<p>“Oh, come now. You are romancing.”</p> +<p>“Not a bit, sir. When I went to my room +I—er—’eard ’im.”</p> +<p>“Is there a wooden partition between No. 18 and your +room?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“And cracks—large ones?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. But why you should—oh, I see! Excuse me, +sir; I thought I ’eard a bell.”</p> +<p>The waiter hurried off, and Brett unwound himself.</p> +<p>“So Robert is in love with Margaret,” he said, +laughing unmirthfully. “Was there ever such a tangle! If I +indulge in a violent flirtation with Miss Layton, and I persuade +Winter to ogle Mrs. Jiro, the affair should be artistically +complete.”</p> +<p>The conceit brought Ipswich to his mind. He was convinced that +the main line of inquiry lay in the direction of Mr. Numagawa Jiro +and the curious masquerading of his colossal spouse.</p> +<p>He had vaguely intended to visit the local police. Now he made +up his mind to go to Ipswich and thence to London. Further delay at +Stowmarket was useless.</p> +<p>Before his train quitted the station he made matters right with +the stationmaster by explaining to him the identity of the two men +who had attracted his attention the previous evening. Somehow, the +barrister imagined that the third visitant of that fateful New +Year’s Eve two years ago would not trouble the neighbourhood +again. Herein he was mistaken.</p> +<p>At the county town he experienced little difficulty in learning +the antecedents of Mrs. Numagawa Jiro.</p> +<p>In the first hotel he entered he found a young lady behind the +bar who was not only well acquainted with Mrs. Jiro, but remembered +the circumstances of the courtship.</p> +<p>“The fact is,” she explained, “there are a lot +of silly girls about who think every man with a dark skin is a +prince in his own country if only he wears a silk hat and patent +leather boots.”</p> +<p>“Is that all?” said Brett.</p> +<p>“All what?” cried the girl. “Oh, don’t +be stupid! I mean when they are well dressed. Princess, indeed! +Catch me marrying a nigger.”</p> +<p>“But Japanese are not niggers.”</p> +<p>“Well, they’re not my sort, anyhow. And fancy a +great gawk like Flossie Bird taking on with a little man who +doesn’t reach up to her elbow. It was simply ridiculous. What +did you say her name is now?”</p> +<p>He gave the required information, and went on:</p> +<p>“Had Mr. Jiro any other friends in Ipswich to your +knowledge?”</p> +<p>“He didn’t know a soul. He was here for the Assizes, +about some case, I think. Oh, I remember—the +‘Stowmarket Mystery’—and he stayed at the hotel +where Flossie was engaged. How she ever came to take notice of him, +I can’t imagine. She was a queer sort of girl—used to +wear bloomers, and get off her bike to clout the small boys who +chi-iked at her.”</p> +<p>“Do her people live here?”</p> +<p>“Yes, and a rare old row they made about her +marriage—for she is married, I will say that for her. But why +are you so interested in her?”</p> +<p>The fair Hebe glanced in a mirror to confirm her personal +opinion that there were much nicer girls than Flossie Bird left in +Ipswich.</p> +<p>“Not in her,” said Brett; “in the example she +set.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> +<p>“If a little Japanese can come to this town and carry off +a lady of her size and appearance, what may not a six-foot +Englishman hope to accomplish?”</p> +<p>“Oh, go on!”</p> +<p>He took her advice, and went on to the hotel patronised by Mr. +Jiro during his visit to Ipswich. The landlord readily showed him +the register for the Assize week. Most of the guests were +barristers and solicitors, many of them known personally to Brett. +None of the other names struck him as important, though he noted a +few who arrived on the same day as the Japanese, “Mr. +Okasaki.”</p> +<p>He took the next train to London, and reached Victoria Street, +to find Mr. Winter awaiting him, and carefully nursing a brown +paper parcel.</p> +<p>“I got your wire, Mr. Brett,” he explained, +“and this morning after Mr. Jiro went out +alone—”</p> +<p>“Where did he go to?”</p> +<p>“The British Museum.”</p> +<p>“What on earth was he doing there?”</p> +<p>“Examining manuscripts, my assistant told me. He was +particularly interested in—let me see—it is written on +a bit of paper. Here it is, the ‘Nihon Guai Shi,’ the +‘External History of Japan,’ compiled by Rai Sanyo, +between 1806 and 1827, containing a history of each of the military +families. That is all Greek to me, but my man got the librarian to +jot it down for him.”</p> +<p>“Your man has brains. What were you going to say when I +interrupted you?”</p> +<p>“Only this. No fat companion appeared to day, so I called +at No. 17 St. John’s Mansions in my favourite character as an +old clo’ man.”</p> +<p>The barrister expressed extravagant admiration in dumb show, but +this did not deceive the detective, who, for some reason, was +downcast.</p> +<p>“I saw Mrs. Jiro, and knew in an instant that she was the +stout gentleman who left her husband at Piccadilly Circus +yesterday. I was that annoyed I could hardly do a deal. However, +here they are.”</p> +<p>He began to unfasten the string which fastened the brown paper +parcel.</p> +<p>“Here are what?” cried Brett.</p> +<p>“Mrs. Jiro’s coat, and trousers, and +waistcoat,” replied Winter desperately. “She +doesn’t want ’em any more; sold ’em for a +song—glad to be rid of ’em, in fact.”</p> +<p>He unfolded a suit of huge dimensions, surveying each garment +ruefully, as though reproaching it personally for the manner in +which it had deceived him.</p> +<p>Then Brett sat down and enjoyed a burst of Homeric laughter.</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XIX" id="Ch_XIX">Chapter XIX</a></h3> +<h2>The Third Man Appears</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>The Rev. Wilberforce Layton raised no objection to his +daughter’s excursion to London with Mrs. Capella. Indeed, he +promised to meet them in Whitby a week later, and remain there +during August. Mrs. Eastham pleaded age and the school treat.</p> +<p>It was, therefore, a comparatively youthful party which Brett +joined at dinner in one of the great hotels in Northumberland +Avenue.</p> +<p>Someone had exercised rare discretion in ordering a special +meal; the wines were good, and two at least of the company merry as +emancipated school children.</p> +<p>The barrister soon received ample confirmation of the discovery +made by the Stowmarket waiter.</p> +<p>Robert Hume-Frazer was undoubtedly in love with his cousin, or, +to speak correctly, for the ex-sailor was a gentleman, he had been +in love with her as a boy, and now secretly grieved over a hopeless +passion.</p> +<p>Whether Margaret was conscious of this devotion or not Brett was +unable to decide. By neither word nor look was Robert indiscreet. +When she was present he was lively and talkative, entertaining the +others with snatches of strange memories drawn from an adventurous +career.</p> +<p>It was only when she quitted their little circle that Brett +detected the mask of angry despair that settled for a moment on the +young man’s face, and rendered him indifferent to other +influences until he resolutely aroused himself.</p> +<p>Yet, on the whole, a great improvement was visible in Frazer. +Attired in one of David’s evening dress suits, carefully +groomed and trimmed, he no sooner donned the garments which gave +him the outward semblance of an aristocrat than he dropped the +curt, somewhat coarse, mannerisms which hitherto distinguished him +from his cousin.</p> +<p>Beyond a more cosmopolitan style of speech, he was singularly +like David in person and deportment. They resembled twins rather +than first cousins. They were both remarkably fine-looking men, +tall, wiry, and in splendid condition. It was only the slightly +more attenuated features of Robert that made it possible, even for +Brett, to distinguish one from the other at a little distance.</p> +<p>Helen was pleased to be facetious on the point.</p> +<p>“Really, Davie,” she said, “now that your +cousin has come amongst us, you must remove your beard at +once.”</p> +<p>“Why?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Because you are so alike that some evening, in these dark +corridors, I shall mistake Mr. Frazer for you.”</p> +<p>“That won’t be half bad,” laughed Robert.</p> +<p>Nellie blushed, and endeavoured to evade the consequences of her +own remark.</p> +<p>“I meant,” she exclaimed, “that you would be +sure to laugh at me if I treated you as Davie.”</p> +<p>“Not at all. I would consider it a cousinly duty to make +you believe I was David, and not myself.”</p> +<p>“Then,” she cried, “I will guard against any +possibility of error by treating both of you as Mr. Robert +Hume-Frazer until I am quite sure.”</p> +<p>“Waiter!” said David, “where is the +barber’s shop?”</p> +<p>Helen became redder than ever, but they enjoyed the joke at her +expense. The waiter politely informed his questioner that the +barber would not be on duty until the morning at 8 a.m.</p> +<p>“Then book the first chair for me!” said David.</p> +<p>“And the second for me!” joined in Robert.</p> +<p>“Mr. Brett,” said Margaret, “don’t you +consider this competition perfectly disgraceful?”</p> +<p>“I am overjoyed,” he replied. “It appears to +me that the result must be personally most satisfactory.”</p> +<p>“In what way?”</p> +<p>“It is obvious that you have no resource but to accept my +willing slavery, Miss Layton having monopolised the attentions of +your two cousins.”</p> +<p>“Hello!” cried Frazer. “This is an unexpected +attack. Miss Layton, I resign. Have no fear. In the darkest +corridor I will warn you that my name is +‘Robert.’”</p> +<p>Though the words were carelessly good-humoured, they were just a +trifle emphatic. The incident passed, but they recalled it +subsequently under very different circumstances.</p> +<p>Brett went home about ten o’clock. Next day at noon he was +arranging for the immediate delivery of a type-writer machine, sold +by Mr. Numagawa Jiro to a West End exchange, when a telegram +reached him:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“Come at once. Urgent.—HUME.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>He drove to the hotel, where David and Helen were sitting in the +foyer awaiting his arrival.</p> +<p>Hume had kept his promise anent the barber. He no longer desired +to alter his appearance in any way, and had only grown a beard on +account of his sensitiveness regarding his two trials at the +Assizes.</p> +<p>But the fun of the affair had quite gone.</p> +<p>Helen was pale, David greatly perturbed.</p> +<p>“A terrible thing has happened,” he said, in a low +voice, when he grasped the barrister’s hand. “Someone +tried to kill Bob an hour ago.”</p> +<p>The blank amazement on Brett’s face caused him to add +hurriedly:</p> +<p>“It is quite true. He had the narrowest escape. He is in +bed now. The doctor is examining him. We have secured the next room +to his, and Margaret is there with a nurse.”</p> +<p>The barrister made no reply, but accompanied them to +Frazer’s apartment. In the adjoining room they found +Margaret, terribly scared, but listening eagerly to the +doctor’s cheery optimism.</p> +<p>“It is nothing,” he was saying, “a severe +squeeze, some slight abrasions, and a great nervous shock, quite +serious in its nature, although your friend makes light of it, and +wishes to get up at once. I think, however—”</p> +<p>A nurse entered.</p> +<p>“The patient insists upon my leaving the room,” she +cried angrily. “He is dressing.”</p> +<p>They heard Robert’s voice:</p> +<p>“Confound it, I have been rolled on three times in one day +by a bucking broncho, and thought nothing of it. I absolutely +refuse to stop in bed!”</p> +<p>The doctor resigned professional responsibility; and the nature +of Margaret’s cheque caused him to admit that, to a man +accustomed to South American ponies, unbroken, the nervous shock +might not amount to much.</p> +<p>Indeed, Robert appeared almost immediately, and in a bad +temper.</p> +<p>“I lost my wind,” he explained, “when that +horse fell on me, and everyone promptly imagined I was killed. I +hope, Margaret, the needless excitement of my appearance on a +stretcher did not alarm you. They were going to whip me off to the +hospital when I managed to gurgle out the name of the +hotel.”</p> +<p>“What happened?” said Brett.</p> +<p>“The most extraordinary thing. Have you told him, +Davie?”</p> +<p>“No, I attributed your first words to me as being due to +delirium. I had no idea you were in earnest.”</p> +<p>“Well, Mr. Brett,” said Frazer, sitting down, for +notwithstanding his protests, he was somewhat shaky, “it +began to rain after breakfast.”</p> +<p>“Excellent!” cried the barrister, “An +Englishman, in his sound mind, always starts with the state of the +weather.”</p> +<p>“I am sound enough, thank goodness, but I had a very close +shave. Don’t laugh, Davie. My ribs are sore. As the ladies +decided not to go out until the weather took up, Davie said he +would keep them company whilst I seized the opportunity to visit a +tailor. I left the hotel and walked quickly to the corner of +Whitehall. It was hardly worth while taking a cab to Bond Street, +and I intended to cross in front of King Charles’s statue. It +is an awkward place, and a lot of ’buses, cabs, and vans were +bowling along downhill from the Strand and St. Martin’s +Church. I waited a moment on the kerbstone, watching for a +favourable opportunity, when suddenly I was pitched head foremost +in front of a passing ’bus. My escape from instant death was +solely due to the splendid way in which the driver handled his +horses and applied his brake. The near horse was swung round so +sharp that he fell and landed almost, not quite, on the top of me. +I could feel his hot, reeking body against my face, and although +the greater part of his impact was borne by the road, I got enough +to knock the breath out of me. You will see by the state of my +clothes in the other room how I was flattened in the mud. By the +way, Davie, it is your suit.”</p> +<p>Helen choked back something she was going to say, and Frazer +continued:</p> +<p>“A policeman pulled me from under the horse, and I kept my +senses sufficiently to note how the near front wheel had gouged a +channel in the mud within an inch or so of my head. It went over my +hat. Where is it?”</p> +<p>Hume ran into the bedroom, and returned with a bowler hat torn +to shreds.</p> +<p>“There you are,” said Robert coolly, “Fancy my +head in that condition.”</p> +<p>“You used the word ‘pitched.’ Do you mean that +someone cannoned against you?”</p> +<p>“Not a bit of it. It was no accident of a hurrying man +blindly following an umbrella. I have been a sailor, Mr. Brett, and +am accustomed to maintaining my balance in a sudden lurch. I do it +intuitively. It is as much a part of my second self as using my +eyes or ears with unconscious accuracy. Some man—a big, +powerful man—designedly threw me down, and did so very +scientifically, first pressing his knee against the tendons of my +left leg, and then using his elbow. Not one in a thousand Londoners +would know the trick.”</p> +<p>“You are a first-rate witness. Pray go on,” said +Brett.</p> +<p>“Being a sailor, however, I did manage to twist round +slightly as I fell, and I’m blessed if I didn’t think +it was Davie here who did it.”</p> +<p>The barrister’s keen face lighted curiously. The others, +closely watching him, afterwards agreed that he reminded them of a +greyhound straining after a luckless hare.</p> +<p>“That seems to interest you, Mr. Brett,” said +Frazer. “I assure you the momentary impression was very +distinct. My assailant was dressed like Davie, too, in dark blue +serge, and wore a beard. For the moment I forgot that Davie had +visited the barber this morning, and I blurted out something when +he met me being carried in through the hall.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” exclaimed Hume. “You said: +‘Davie, why did you try to murder me?’ I was sure you +were delirious, as I had not left Nellie and Margaret for an +instant since you went out.”</p> +<p>“That is so,” cried Helen.</p> +<p>Margaret uttered no word. She sat, with hands clasped, and pale, +set face, watching her cousin as if his story had a mesmeric +effect.</p> +<p>“I’m awfully sorry,” said Frazer penitently. +“I knew at once I was a fool, but you see, old chap, I +remembered you best as I had seen you during the previous +twenty-four hours, and not as you looked at breakfast this morning. +Do forgive me.”</p> +<p>But Brett broke in impatiently:</p> +<p>“My dear fellow, your natural mistake is the most +important thing that has happened since your cousin Alan met his +death. The man who attacked you mistook you, in turn, for David. He +will try again. I wonder if your accident will be reported in the +papers?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Hume. “A youngster came to me, +inquired all about Robert, and seemed to be quite sorry he was not +mangled.”</p> +<p>“Then it will be your affair next time. Keep a close +look-out whenever you are alone. If anyone resembling yourself lays +a hand on you, try and detain him at all costs.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Brett!” shrieked Helen, “you surely +cannot mean it.”</p> +<p>His enthusiasm had caused him to ignore her presence. For the +next five minutes he was earnestly engaged in explaining away his +uncanny request.</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XX" id="Ch_XX">Chapter XX</a></h3> +<h2>The Trail</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Standing on the steps of the hotel, Brett cast a searching +glance along the line of waiting hansoms. He wanted a strong, +sure-footed horse, one of those marvellous animals, found only in +the streets of London, which trots like a dog, slides down Savoy +Street on its hind legs, slips in and out among the traffic like an +eel, and covers a steady eight miles an hour for a seemingly +indefinite period.</p> +<p>“Shall I whistle for a cab, sir?” said the +hall-porter.</p> +<p>“No. You whistle without discrimination,” replied +the barrister.</p> +<p>He found the stamp of gee-gee he needed fourth on the rank.</p> +<p>“How long has your horse been out of the stable?” he +asked the driver.</p> +<p>“I’ve just driven him here, sir.”</p> +<p>“Is he up to a hard day’s work?”</p> +<p>“The best tit in London, sir.”</p> +<p>“Pull him up to the pavement.”</p> +<p>The man obeyed. Instantly his three predecessors on the rank +began a chorus:</p> +<p>“‘Ere! Wot th’—”</p> +<p>“All right, Jimmy. Wait till—”</p> +<p>“Well, I’m—”</p> +<p>“What is the matter?” inquired Brett, “You +fellows always squeal before you are hurt. Here is a fare each for +you,” and he solemnly gave them a shilling a-piece.</p> +<p>Even then they were not satisfied. They all objurgated Jimmy for +his luck as he drove off.</p> +<p>It was an easy matter to find the constable who had been on +point duty at the crossing when the “accident” +happened. This man produced his note-book containing the number of +the Road Car Company’s Camden Town and Victoria ’bus, +the driver of which had so cleverly avoided a catastrophe. The +policeman knew nothing of events prior to the falling of the horse. +There was the usual crowd of hurrying people; the scream of a +startled woman; a rush of sightseers; and the rescue of Frazer from +beneath the prostrate animal.</p> +<p>“Did you chance to notice the destination of the omnibus +immediately preceding the Road Car vehicle?” said Brett.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. It was an Atlas.”</p> +<p>“Have you noted the exact time the accident +occurred?”</p> +<p>“Here it is, sir—10.45 a.m.”</p> +<p>At Victoria he was lucky in hitting upon the Camden Town +’bus itself, drawn up outside the District Railway Station, +waiting its turn to enter the enclosure.</p> +<p>The driver was a sharp fellow, and disinclined to answer +questions. Brett might be an emissary of the enemy. But a handsome +tip and the assurance that a very substantial present would be +forwarded to his address by the friends of the gentleman whose life +he saved unloosed his tongue.</p> +<p>“I never did see anything like it, sir,” he +confided. “The road was quite clear, an’ I was +bowlin’ along to get the inside berth from a General just +behind, when this yer gent was chucked under the +’osses’ ’eds. Bli-me, I would ha’ thort +’e was a suicide if I ’adn’t seed a bloke shove +’im orf the kerb.”</p> +<p>“Oh, you saw that, did you?”</p> +<p>“Couldn’t ’elp it, sir. I was lookin’ +aht for fares. Jack, my mate, sawr it too.”</p> +<p>The conductor thus appealed to confirmed the statement. They +both described the assailant as very like his would-be victim in +size, appearance, and garments.</p> +<p>Jack said he could do nothing, because the sudden swerving of +the ’bus, the fall of the horse, and the instant gathering of +a crowd, prevented him from making the attempt to grab the other +man, who vanished, he believed, down Whitehall.</p> +<p>“You did not tell the police about the assault?” +inquired Brett.</p> +<p>“Not me, guv’nor,” said the driver. “The +poor chap in the road was not much ’urt. I knew that, though +the mob thort ’e was a dead ’un. An’ wot does it +mean? A day lost in the polis-court, an’ a day lost on my +pay-sheet, too.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Brett, “the twist you gave to the +reins this morning meant several days added to your pay-sheet. +Would either of you know the man again if you saw him?”</p> +<p>This needed reflection.</p> +<p>“I wouldn’t swear to ’im,” was the +driver’s dictum, “but I would swear to any man +bein’ like ’im.”</p> +<p>“Same ’ere,” said the conductor.</p> +<p>The barrister understood their meaning, which had not the +general application implied by the words. He obtained the addresses +of both men and left them.</p> +<p>His next visit was to an Atlas terminus. Here he had to wait a +full hour before the ’bus arrived that had passed Trafalgar +Square on a south journey at 10.45.</p> +<p>The conductor remembered the sudden stoppage of the Road Car +vehicle.</p> +<p>“Ran over a man, sir, didn’t it?” he +inquired.</p> +<p>“Nearly, not quite. Now, I want you to fix your thoughts +on the passengers who entered your ’bus at that point. Can +you describe them?”</p> +<p>The man smiled.</p> +<p>“It’s rather a large order, sir,” he said. +“I’ve been past there twice since. If it’s +anybody you know particular, and you tell me what he was like, I +may be able to help you.”</p> +<p>Brett would have preferred the conductor’s own unaided +statement, but seeing no help for it, he gave the man a detailed +description of David Hume, plus the beard.</p> +<p>“Has he got black, snaky eyes and high cheek-bones?” +the conductor inquired thoughtfully.</p> +<p>The barrister had described a fair man, with brown hair; and the +question in no way indicated the colour of the Hume-Frazer eyes. +Yet the odd combination caught his attention.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he said, “that may be the +man.”</p> +<p>“Well, sir, I didn’t pick him up there, but I +dropped him there at nine o’clock. I picked him up at the +Elephant, and noticed him particular because he didn’t pay +the fare for the whole journey, but took +penn’orths.”</p> +<p>“I am greatly obliged to you. Would you know him +again?”</p> +<p>“Among a thousand! He had a funny look, and never spoke. +Just shoved a penny out whenever I came on top. Twice I had to +refuse it.”</p> +<p>“Was he a foreigner?”</p> +<p>“Not to my idea. He looked like a Scotchman. Don’t +you know him, sir?”</p> +<p>“Not yet. I hope to make his acquaintance. Can you +remember the ’bus which was in front of you at Whitehall at +10.45?”</p> +<p>“Yes; I can tell you that. It was a Monster, Pimlico. The +conductor is a friend of mine, named Tomkins. That is the only time +I have seen him to-day.”</p> +<p>At the Monster, Pimlico, after another delay, Tomkins was +produced. Again Brett described David Hume, adorned now with +“black, snaky eyes and high cheek-bones.”</p> +<p>“Of course,” said Tomkins. “I’ve spotted +’im. ’E came aboard wiv a run just arter a hoss fell in +front of the statoo. Gimme a penny, ’e did, an’ jumped +orf at the ’Orse Guards without a ticket afore we ’ad +gone a ’undred yards. I thort ’e was frightened or +dotty, I did. Know ’im agin? Ra—ther. Eyes like +gimlets, ’e ’ad.”</p> +<p>The barrister regained the seclusion of the hansom.</p> +<p>“St John’s Mansions, Kensington,” he said to +the driver, and then he curled up on the seat in the most +uncomfortable attitude permitted by the construction of the +vehicle.</p> +<p>On nearing his destination he stopped the cab at a convenient +corner.</p> +<p>“I want you to wait here for my return,” he told the +driver.</p> +<p>“How long will you be, sir?”</p> +<p>“Not more than fifteen minutes.”</p> +<p>“I only asked, sir, because I wanted to know if I had time +to give the horse a feed.”</p> +<p>Cabby was evidently quite convinced that his eccentric fare was +not a bilker.</p> +<p>Brett glanced around. In the neighbouring street was a +public-house, which possessed what the agents call “a good +pull-up trade.” He pointed to it.</p> +<p>“I think,” he said, “if you wait there it will +be more comfortable for you and equally good for the +horse.”</p> +<p>The cabby pocketed an interim tip with a grin.</p> +<p>“I’ve struck it rich to-day,” he murmured, as +he disappeared through a swing door bearing the legend, +“Tap,” in huge letters.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, Brett sauntered past St. John’s Mansions. +Across the road a man was leaning against the railings of a large +garden, being deeply immersed in the columns of a sporting +paper.</p> +<p>The barrister caught his eye and walked on. A minute later Mr. +Winter overtook him.</p> +<p>“Not a move here all day,” he said in disgust, +“except Mrs. Jiro’s appearance with the perambulator. +She led me all round Kensington Gardens, and her only business was +to air the baby and cram it with sponge-cakes.”</p> +<p>“Where is her husband?”</p> +<p>“In the house. He hasn’t stirred out since +yesterday’s visit to the Museum.”</p> +<p>“Who is looking after the place in your +absence?”</p> +<p>“One of my men has taken a room over the paper shop +opposite. He has special charge of the Jap. My second assistant is +scraping and varnishing the door of No. 16 flat. He sees every one +who enters and leaves the place during the day. If Mrs. Jiro comes +out he has to follow her until he sees that I am on the +job.”</p> +<p>“Good! I want to talk matters over with you. I have a cab +waiting in a side street.”</p> +<p>“Why, sir, has anything special happened?”</p> +<p>A newsboy came running along shouting the late edition of the +<em>Evening News</em>. The barrister bought a paper and rapidly +glanced through its contents.</p> +<p>“Here you are,” he said. “Someone in that +office has a good memory.”</p> +<p>The item which Brett pointed out to the detective read as +follows:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“ACCIDENT IN WHITEHALL.</p> +<p>“Mr. Robert Hume-Frazer, residing in one of the great +hotels in Northumberland Avenue, was knocked down and nearly run +over by an omnibus in Whitehall this morning. The skill of the +driver averted a very serious accident. It is supposed that Mr. +Hume-Frazer slipped whilst attempting to cross before the policeman +on duty at that point stopped the traffic.</p> +<p>“The injured gentleman was carried to his hotel, where he +is staying with his cousin, Mr. David Hume-Frazer, whose name will +be recalled in connection with the famous ‘Stowmarket +Mystery’ of last year.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“What does it all mean?” inquired Winter.</p> +<p>“It means that you must listen carefully to what I am +going to tell you. Here is my cab. Jump in. Driver, I am surprised +that a man of your intelligence should waste your money on a +public-house cigar. Throw it away. Here is a better one. And now, +Victoria Street, sharp.”</p> +<p>Winter’s ears were pricked to receive Brett’s +intelligence. Beyond a sigh of professional admiration at the +result of Brett’s pertinacity with regard to the omnibuses +passing through Whitehall at 10.45, he did not interrupt until the +barrister had ended.</p> +<p>Even then he was silent, so Brett looked at him in surprise,</p> +<p>“Well, Winter, what do you think of it?” he +said.</p> +<p>“Think! I wish I had half your luck, Mr. Brett,” he +answered sadly.</p> +<p>“How now, you green-eyed monster?”</p> +<p>“No. I’m not jealous. You beat me at my own game; I +admit it. I would never have thought of going for the ’buses. +I suppose you would have interviewed the driver and conductor of +every vehicle on that route before you gave in. You didn’t +trouble about the hansoms. Hailing a cab was a slow business, and +risked subsequent identification. To jump on to a moving ’bus +was just the thing. Yes, there is no denying that you are d—d +smart.”</p> +<p>“Winter, your unreasonable jealousy is making you +vulgar.”</p> +<p>“Wouldn’t any man swear, sir? Why did I let such a +handful as Mrs. Jiro slip through my fingers the other day? Clue! +Why, it was a perfect bale of cotton. If I had only followed her +instead of that little rat, her husband, we would now know where +the third man lives, and have the murderer of Sir Alan under our +thumb. It is all my fault, though sometimes I feel inclined to +blame the police system—a system that won’t even give +us telephones between one station and another. Never mind. Wait +till I tackle the next job for the Yard. I’ll show ’em +a trick or two.”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XXI" id="Ch_XXI">Chapter XXI</a></h3> +<h2>Concerning Chickens, and Motives</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>The detective cooled off by the time they reached Brett’s +flat. On the dining-room tables they found two telegrams and a +Remington type-writer.</p> +<p>The messages were from Holden, Naples.</p> +<p>The first: “Johnson arrived here this morning.”</p> +<p>The second: “Johnson’s proceedings refer to +poorhouse and church registers.”</p> +<p>“Johnson is Capella,” explained Winter. “I +forgot to tell you we had arranged that.”</p> +<p>Brett surveyed the second telegram so intently that the +detective inquired:</p> +<p>“How do you read that, sir?”</p> +<p>“Capella is securing copies of +certificates—marriages, births, or deaths; perhaps all three. +He is also getting hold of living witnesses.”</p> +<p>“Of what?”</p> +<p>“He will tell us himself. He is preparing a bombshell of +sorts. It will explode here. Goodness only knows who will be blown +up by it.”</p> +<p>He took the cover off the type-writer, seized a sheet of paper, +and began to manipulate the keyboard with the methodical +carefulness of one unaccustomed to its use.</p> +<p>He wrote:</p> +<div class="quote" style="font-family:monospace;"> +<p style="margin:0em;">“About Stowmarket. David Hume Frazer +killed</p> +<p style="margin:0em;">cousin. Cousin talked girl in road.</p> +<p style="margin:0em;">Girl waited wood. David Hume Frazer met</p> +<p style="margin:0em;">girl in wood after 1 a.m.”</p> +</div> +<p>“Do you mean to say,” cried the detective, +“that you can remember the anonymous letter word for word? +You have only seen it once, and that was several days +ago.”</p> +<p>“Not only word for word, but the spacing, the number of +words in a line, the lines between which creases appear. Look, +Winter. Here is the small broken ‘c,’ the bent capital +‘D,’ the letter ‘a’ out of register. Where +is the original?”</p> +<p>“Here, in my pocket-book.”</p> +<p>They silently compared the two typed sheets. It needed no expert +to note that they had been written by the same machine.</p> +<p>“It would take a clever counsel to upset that piece of +evidence,” said Winter. “I wish I had hold of the +writer.”</p> +<p>“You have spoken to him several times.”</p> +<p>“Surely you cannot mean Jiro!”</p> +<p>“Who else? Jiro is but the tool of a superior scoundrel. +He is just beginning to suspect the fact, and trying to use it for +his own benefit. I wish I was in Naples with your friend +Holden.”</p> +<p>“But, Mr. Brett, the murderer is in London! What about +this morning’s attempt—”</p> +<p>“My dear fellow, you are already constructing the gallows. +Leave that to the gaol officials. What we do not yet know is the +motive. The key to the mystery is in Naples, probably in +Capella’s hands at this moment. If I were there it would be +in mine, too. Do not question me, Winter. I am not inspired. I can +only indulge in vague imaginings. Capella will bring the reality to +London.”</p> +<p>“Then what are we to do meanwhile?”</p> +<p>“Await events patiently. Watch Jiro with the calm +persistence of a cat watching a hole into which a mouse has +disappeared. At this moment, eat something.”</p> +<p>He rang for Smith, and told him to attend to the wants of the +waiting cabman, whilst Mrs. Smith made the speediest arrangements +for an immediate dinner.</p> +<p>The two men sat down, and Winter could not help asking another +question.</p> +<p>“Why are you keeping the cab, Mr. Brett?”</p> +<p>“Because I am superstitious.”</p> +<p>The detective opened wide his eyes at this unlooked-for +statement.</p> +<p>“I mean it,” said the barrister. “Look at all +I have learnt to-day whilst darting about London in that particular +hansom, which, mind you, I carefully selected from a rank of +twenty. Abandon it until I am dropped at my starting-point! +Never!”</p> +<p>Winter sighed.</p> +<p>“I never feel that way about anything on wheels,” he +said. “Do you really think you will be able to clear up this +affair, sir? It seems to me to be a bigger muddle now than when I +left it after the second trial. Don’t laugh at me. That is +awkwardly put, I know. But then we had a straightforward crime to +deal with. Now, goodness knows where we have landed.”</p> +<p>Smith entered, and commenced laying the table. Brett did not +reply to the detective’s spoken reverie. Both men idly +watched the deft servant’s preparations.</p> +<p>“Smith,” suddenly cried the master of the household, +“what sort of chicken have we for dinner?”</p> +<p>“Cold chicken, sir.”</p> +<p>“Thank you. As you seem to demand Miltonic precision in +phrase, I amend my words. What breed of chicken have we for +dinner?”</p> +<p>“A dorking, sir.”</p> +<p>“And how do you know it is a dorking?”</p> +<p>“Oh, there’s lots of ways of knowin’ that, +sir. You can tell by the size, by its head and feet, and by the +tuft of feathers left on its neck.”</p> +<p>“Q.E.D.”</p> +<p>“Beg pardon, sir!”</p> +<p>“I was only saying, ‘Right you +are!’”</p> +<p>Smith went out, and Brett turned to his companion:</p> +<p>“Did you note Smith’s philosophy in the matter of +dorkings?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Does it convey no moral to you? I fear not. Now mark me, +Winter. Just as the breed of the chicken is indelibly stamped on it +in the eyes of a man skilled in chickens, so is the murder we are +investigating marked by characteristics so plain that a child of +ten, properly trained to use his eyes, might discern them. What you +and I suffer from are defects implanted by idle nursemaids and +doting mothers. Let us, for the moment, adopt the policy of the +theosophists and sit in consultation apart from our astral bodies. +Who killed Sir Alan Hume-Frazer? I answer, a relative. What +relative? Someone we do not know, whom he did not know, or who +committed murder because he was known. What sort of person is the +murderer? A man physically like either David or Robert, so like +that ‘Rabbit Jack’ would swear to the identity of +either of them as readily as to the person of the real murderer. +Why did he use such a weird instrument as the Ko-Katana? Because he +found it under his hand and recognised its sinister purpose, to be +left implanted in the breast or brain of an enemy’s lifeless +body. Where is the man now? In London, perhaps outside this +building, perhaps watching the Northumberland Avenue Hotel, waiting +quietly for another chance to take the life of the person who +caused us to reopen this inquiry. To sum up, Winter, let us find +such an individual, a Hume-Frazer with black, deadly eyes, with a +cold, calculating, remorseless brain, with a knowledge of trick and +fence not generally an attribute of the Anglo-Saxon race—let +us lay hands on him, I say, and you can book him for kingdom come, +<em>viâ</em> the Old Bailey.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir!” broke in Winter excitedly. “But +the motive!”</p> +<p>“Et tu, Brute! Would the disciple rend his master? Have I +not told you that Capella will bring that knowledge with him from +Naples? I have hopes even of your long-nosed friend, Holden, giving +us all the details we need.”</p> +<p>“What did the murderer steal from Sir Alan’s +writing-desk, from the drawer broken open before the blow was +struck?”</p> +<p>Smith entered, bearing a chicken.</p> +<p>“The motive, Winter! The motive!” laughed Brett, and +in pursuance of his invariable practice, he refused to say another +word about the crime or its perpetrator during the meal.</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XXII" id="Ch_XXII">Chapter XXII</a></h3> +<h2>The Second Attack</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Mrs. Smith was accustomed to her master’s occasional +freaks in the matter of dinner. Her husband, aided by long +experience, knew whether Brett’s “immediately” +meant one minute, or five, or even fifteen.</p> +<p>This time he gave his wife the longest limit, so, in addition to +the chicken, a bird whose unhappy attribute is a facility for being +devoured with the utmost speed, a mixed grill of cutlets, bacon, +and French sausages appeared on the table.</p> +<p>The diners were hungry and the good things were appreciated. It +was well that they wasted no time on mere words. They were still +intent on the feast when a boy messenger brought a note. It was +from Helen, written in pencil:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“David was coming to see you when he was attacked. Can you +come to us at once?</p> +<p class="rgt">“H.L.</p> +<p>“P.S.—David is all right—only shaken and +covered with mud. It occurred five minutes ago.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Dear me!” said Brett. “Dear me!”</p> +<p>There was such a hiss of concentrated fury in his voice that +Winter was puzzled to account for the harmless expression the +barrister had twice used. The detective knew that his distinguished +friend never, by any chance, indulged in strong language, yet +something had annoyed him so greatly that a more powerful expletive +would have had a very natural sound.</p> +<p>Brett glared at him.</p> +<p>“It is evident,” he said, “that you do not +know the meaning of ‘Dear me.’ It is simply the English +form of the Italian ‘O Dio mio!’ and a literal +translation would shock you.”</p> +<p>“It doesn’t appear that much damage has been done to +your client,” gasped Winter, for Brett had unceremoniously +dragged him from his chair with the intention of rushing downstairs +forthwith.</p> +<p>They hurried out together, and dashed into the waiting +hansom.</p> +<p>“Think of it, Winter,” groaned the barrister. +“Whilst we were seduced by a dorking and a French +sausage—an unholy alliance—the very man we wanted was +waiting in Northumberland Avenue. You are avenged! All my jibes and +sneers at Scotland Yard recoil on my own head. I might have known +that such a desperate scoundrel would soon make another attempt, +and next time upon the right person. You followed Mrs. Jiro. I am +led astray by a cooked fowl. Oh, Winter, Winter, who could suspect +such depravity in a roasted chicken!”</p> +<p>“I’m dashed if I can guess what you’re driving +at,” growled the detective.</p> +<p>“No; I understand. The blood has left your brain and gone +to your stomach. You will not be able to think for +hours.”</p> +<p>Raving thus, in disjointed sentences that Winter could not make +head or tail of, Brett refused to be explicit until they reached +the hotel, when he discharged the cabman with a payment that caused +the gentleman on the perch to spit on the palm of his hand in great +glee, whilst he promptly wheeled the horse in the direction of his +livery stables.</p> +<p>They were met by David himself, seated in the foyer by the side +of Helen, who looked white and frightened.</p> +<p>“This chap is a terror,” began Hume, once they were +safe in the privacy of their sitting-room. “I would never +have believed such things were possible in London if they had not +actually happened to Robert and me to-day. We had dinner rather +early, and dined in private, as Robert is feeling stiff now after +this morning’s adventure. Margaret +suggested—”</p> +<p>“Where is Mrs. Capella?” interrupted the +barrister.</p> +<p>Miss Layton answered:</p> +<p>“She is with Mr. Frazer. They have found a quiet corner of +the ladies’ smoking-room—I mean the smoking-room where +ladies go—and we have not told them yet what has happened to +Davie.”</p> +<p>“Well,” resumed Hume, “Margaret’s idea +is that we should all leave here for the North to-morrow. She +wanted you to approve of the arrangement, so I got into a hansom +and started for your chambers. It was raining a little, and the +street was full of traffic. The driver asked if I would like the +window closed, but I would sooner face a tiger than drive through +London in a boxed-up hansom, so I refused. The middle of the road, +you know, has a long line of waiting cabs, broken by occasional +crossing-places. The horse was just getting into a trot when a man, +wrapped in a mackintosh, ran alongside, caught the off rein in the +crook of his stick, swung the poor beast right round through one of +the gaps in the rank, and down we went—horse, cab, driver, +and myself—in front of a brewer’s dray. Luckily for me +and the driver, we were flung right over the smash into the gutter, +for the big, heavy van ran into the fallen hansom, crushed it like +a matchbox, and killed the horse. Had the window been +closed—well, it wasn’t, so there is no need for +romancing.”</p> +<p>Poor Nellie clung to her lover as if to assure herself that he +was really uninjured.</p> +<p>“Did you see your assailant clearly?”</p> +<p>“Unfortunately, no. The side windows were blurred with +rain, and I was trying to strike a match. The first thing I was +conscious of was a violent swerve. I looked up, saw a tall, cloaked +figure wrenching at the reins with a crooked stick, and over we +went. I fell into a bed of mud. It absolutely blinded me. I jumped +up, and fancying that the blackguard ran up Northumberland Street I +dashed after him. I cannoned against some passer-by and we both +fell. A news-runner, who witnessed the affair, did go after the +cause of it, and received such a knock-out blow on the jaw that he +was hardly able to speak when found by a policeman.”</p> +<p>“Where is this man now?”</p> +<p>“With the cabman in a small hotel across the road. I had +not the nerve to bring them here. If we have any more adventures, +the management will turn us out. I fancy they think our behaviour +is hardly respectable. The instant Robert or I endeavour to leave +the door we are used to clean up a portion of the +roadway.”</p> +<p>“Miss Layton, would you mind joining the others for a few +minutes. Mr. Hume is going out with Mr. Winter and +myself.”</p> +<p>The barrister’s request took Helen by surprise.</p> +<p>“Is there any need for further risk?” she faltered. +“Moreover, Margaret will see at once that something has gone +wrong. I am a poor hand at deception where—where Davie is +concerned.”</p> +<p>“Have no fear. Tell them everything. Mr. Hume will be very +seriously injured—in to-morrow morning’s papers. This +expert in street accidents must be led to believe he has succeeded. +In any case, aided by a miserable fowl, he is far enough from here +at this moment. We will return in twenty minutes.”</p> +<p>The girl was so agitated that she hardly noticed Brett’s +words. But their purport reassured her, and she left them.</p> +<p>The three men passed out into the drizzling rain. Owing to the +Strand being “up,” a continuous stream of traffic +flowed through the Avenue. Hume pointed out the gap through which +the horse was forced, and then they darted across the roadway.</p> +<p>“I fell here,” he said, indicating a muddy flood of +road scrapings, in which were embedded many splinters from the +wreckage of the hansom.</p> +<p>Brett, careless of the amazement he caused to hurrying +pedestrians, waded through the bed of mud, kicking up any objects +encountered by his feet.</p> +<p>He uttered an exclamation of triumph when he produced a stick +from the depths.</p> +<p>“I thought I should find it,” he said. “When +the horse fell it was a hundred to one against the stick being +extricated from the reins, and its owner could not wait an instant. +You and the stick, my dear Hume, lay close together.”</p> +<p>A small crowd was gathering. The barrister laughed.</p> +<p>“Gentleman,” he said, “why are you so +surprised? Which of you would not dirty his boots to recover such a +valuable article as this?”</p> +<p>Some people grinned sympathetically. They all moved away.</p> +<p>In an upper room of the neighbouring public-house were a +suffering “runner” and a disconsolate +“cabby.” The “runner” could tell them +nothing tangible concerning the man he pursued.</p> +<p>“I sawr ’im bring the hoss dahn like a +bullick,” he whispered, for the poor fellow had received a +terrible blow. “I went arter ’im, dodged rahnd the fust +corner, an’, bli-me, ’e gev me a punch that would +’ave ’arted Corbett.”</p> +<p>“What with—his fist?” inquired Brett.</p> +<p>“Nah, guv’nor—’is ’eel, blawst +’im. I could ’ave dodged a square blow. I can use my +dukes a bit myself.”</p> +<p>“What was the value of the punch?”</p> +<p>The youth tried to smile, though the effort tortured him. +“It was worth ’arf a thick ’un at least, +guv’nor.”</p> +<p>Hume gave him two sovereigns, and the runner could not have been +more taken aback had the donor “landed him” on the +sound jaw.</p> +<p>“And now, you,” said Brett to the cabman. +“What did you see?”</p> +<p>“Me!” with a snort of indignation. “Little +over an hour ago I sawr a smawt keb an’ a tidy little nag wot +I gev thirty quid fer at Ward’s in the Edgware Road a +fortnight larst Toosday. And wot do I see now? Marylebone +Work’us fer me an’ the missis an’ the kids. My +keb gone, my best hoss killed, an’ a pore old crock left, +worth abart enough to pay the week’s stablin’. I see a +lot, I do.”</p> +<p>The man was telling the truth. He was blear-eyed with misery. +Brett looked at Hume, and the latter rang a bell. He asked the +waiter for a pen and ink.</p> +<p>“How much did your cab cost?” he said to the driver, +who was so downcast that he actually failed to correctly interpret +David’s action. The question had to be repeated before an +answer came.</p> +<p>“It wasn’t a new ’un, mister. I was just +makin’ a stawt. I gev fifty-five pound fer it, an’ +three pun ten to ’ave it done up. But there! What’s the +use of talkin’? I’m orf ’ome, I am, to fice the +missis.”</p> +<p>“Wait just a little while,” said David kindly. +“You hardly understand this business. The madman who attacked +us meant to injure me, not you. Here is a cheque for £100, +which will not only replace your horse and cab, but leave you a +little over for the loss of your time.”</p> +<p>Winter caught the dazed cabman by the shoulder.</p> +<p>“Billy,” he said, “you know me. Are you going +home, or going to get drunk?”</p> +<p>Billy hesitated.</p> +<p>“Goin’ ’ome,” he vociferated. +“S’elp me—”</p> +<p>“One moment,” said Brett. “Surely you have +some idea of the appearance of the rascal who pulled your horse +over?”</p> +<p>The man was alternately surveying the cheque and looking into +the face of his benefactor.</p> +<p>“I dunno,” he cried, after a pause. “I feel a +bit mixed. This gentleman ’ere ’as acted as square as +ever man did. ’E comes of a good stock, ’e does, +an’ yet—I ’umbly ax yer pawdon, sir—but the +feller who tried to kill you an’ me might ha’ bin yer +own brother.”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XXIII" id="Ch_XXIII">Chapter XXIII</a></h3> +<h2>Margaret’s Secret</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>The waiter managed to remove the most obvious traces of +Brett’s escapade in the gutter, and incidentally cleaned the +stick.</p> +<p>It was a light, tough ashplant, with a silver band around the +handle. The barrister held it under a gas jet and examined it +closely. Nothing escaped him. After scrutinising the band for some +time, he looked at the ferrule, and roughly estimated that the +owner had used it two or three years. Finally, when quite +satisfied, he handed it to Winter.</p> +<p>“Do you recognise those scratches?” he said, with a +smile, pointing out a rough design bitten into the silver by the +application of aqua regia and beeswax.</p> +<p>The detective at once uttered an exclamation of supreme +astonishment.</p> +<p>“The very thing!” he cried. “The same Japanese +motto as that on the Ko-Katana!”</p> +<p>Hume now drew near.</p> +<p>“So,” he growled savagely, “the hand that +struck down Alan was the same that sought my life an hour +ago!”</p> +<p>“And your cousin’s this morning,” said +Brett</p> +<p>“The cowardly brute! If he has a grudge against my family, +why doesn’t he come out into the open? He need not have +feared detection, even a week ago. I could be found easily enough. +Why didn’t he meet me face to face? I have never yet run away +from trouble or danger.”</p> +<p>“You are slightly in error regarding him,” observed +Brett. “This man may be a fiend incarnate, but he is no +coward. He means to kill, to work some terrible purpose, and he +takes the best means towards that end. To his mind the idea of +giving a victim fair play is sheer nonsense. It never even occurs +to him. But a coward! no. Think of the nerve required to commit +robbery and murder under the conditions that obtained at Beechcroft +on New Year’s Eve. Think of the skill, the ready resource, +which made so promptly available the conditions of the two assaults +to-day. Our quarry is a genius, a Poe among criminals. Look to it, +Winter, that your handcuffs are well fixed when you arrest him, or +he will slip from your grasp at the very gates of Scotland +Yard.”</p> +<p>“If I had my fingers round his windpipe—” +began David.</p> +<p>“You would be a dead man a few seconds later,” said +the barrister. “If we three, unarmed, had him in this room +now, equally defenceless, I should regard the issue as +doubtful.”</p> +<p>“There would be a terrible dust-up,” smirked +Winter.</p> +<p>“Possibly; but it would be a fight for life or death. No +half measures. A matter of decanters, fire-irons, chairs. Let us +return to the hotel.”</p> +<p>Whilst Hume went to summon the others, Brett seated himself at a +table and wrote:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“A curious chapter of accidents happened in Northumberland +Avenue yesterday. Early in the morning, Mr. Robert Hume-Frazer +quitted his hotel for a stroll in the West End, and narrowly +escaped being run over in Whitehall. About 8 p.m. his cousin, Mr. +David Hume-Frazer, was driving through the Avenue in a hansom, when +the vehicle upset, and the young gentleman was thrown out. He was +picked up in a terrible condition, and is reported to be in danger +of his life.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The barrister read the paragraph aloud.</p> +<p>“It is casuistic,” he commented, “but that +defect is pardonable. After all, it is not absolutely mendacious, +like a War Office telegram. Winter, go and bring joy to the heart +of some penny-a-liner by giving him that item. The +‘coincidence’ will ensure its acceptance by every +morning paper in London, and you can safely leave the reporter +himself to add details about Mr. Hume’s connection with the +Stowmarket affair.”</p> +<p>The detective rose.</p> +<p>“Will you be here when I come back, sir?” he +asked.</p> +<p>“I expect so. In any case, you must follow on to my +chambers. To-night we will concert our plan of campaign.”</p> +<p>Margaret entered, with Helen and the two men. Robert limped +somewhat.</p> +<p>“How d’ye do, Brett?” he cried cheerily. +“That beggar hurt me more than I imagined at the time. He +struck a tendon in my left leg so hard that it is quite painful +now.”</p> +<p>Brett gave an answering smile, but his thoughts did not find +utterance. How strange it was that two men, so widely dissimilar as +Robert and the vendor of newspapers, should insist on the skill, +the unerring certainty, of their opponent.</p> +<p>“Mrs. Capella,” he said, wheeling round upon the +lady, “when you lived in London or on the Continent did you +ever include any Japanese in the circle of your +acquaintances?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” was the reply.</p> +<p>Margaret was white, her lips tense, the brilliancy of her large +eyes almost unnatural.</p> +<p>“Tell me about them.”</p> +<p>“What can I tell you? They were bright, lively little men. +They amused my friends by their quaint ideas, and interested us at +times by recounting incidents of life in the East.”</p> +<p>“Were they all ‘little’? Was one of them a man +of unusual stature?”</p> +<p>“No,” said Margaret</p> +<p>The barrister knew that she was profoundly distressed.</p> +<p>“If she would be candid with me,” he mused, “I +would tear the heart from this mystery to-night.”</p> +<p>One other among those present caught the hidden drift of this +small colloquy. Robert Frazer looked sadly at his cousin. Natures +that are closely allied have an electric sympathy. He could not +even darkly discern the truth, but he connected Brett’s words +in some remote way with Capella. How he loathed the despicable +Italian who left his wife to bear alone the trouble that oppressed +her—who only went away in order to concoct some villainy +against her.</p> +<p>Margaret could not face the barrister’s thoughtful, +searching gaze. She stood up—like the others of her race when +danger threatened. She even laughed harshly.</p> +<p>“I have decided,” she said, “to leave here +to-morrow morning. Helen says she does not object Our united +wardrobes will serve all needs of the seaside. Robert’s +tailor visited him to-day, and assured him that the result would be +satisfactory without any preliminary ‘trying on.’ Do +you approve, Mr. Brett?”</p> +<p>“Most heartily. I can hardly believe that our hidden foe +will make a further attack until he learns that he has been foiled +again. Yet you will all be happier, and unquestionably safer, away +from London. Does anyone here know where you are going?”</p> +<p>“No one. I have not told my maid or footman. It was not +necessary, as we intended to remain here a week.”</p> +<p>“Admirable! When you leave the hotel in the morning give +Yarmouth as your destination. Not until you reach King’s +Cross need you inform your servants that you are really going to +Whitby. Would you object to—ah, well that is perhaps, +difficult. I was about to suggest an assumed name, but Miss +Layton’s father would object, no doubt.”</p> +<p>“If he did not, I would,” said Robert impetuously. +“Who has Margaret to fear, and what do David and I care for +all the anonymous scoundrels in creation?”</p> +<p>“Is there really so much danger that such a proceeding is +advisable?” inquired the trembling Nellie.</p> +<p>“To-day’s circumstances speak for themselves, Miss +Layton,” replied Brett. “Neither you nor Mrs. Capella +run the least risk. I will not be answerable for the others. Grave +difficulties must be surmounted before the power for further injury +is taken from the man we seek. In my professional capacity, I say +act openly, advertise your destination, make it known that Mr. Hume +escaped from the wreck of the hansom unhurt. Should the would-be +murderer follow you to Whitby he cannot escape me. Here in London +he is one among five millions. But speaking as a friend, I advise +the utmost vigilance unless another Hume-Frazer is to die in his +boots.”</p> +<p>It was not Helen but Margaret who wailed in agony:</p> +<p>“Do you really mean what you say? Have matters reached +that stage?”</p> +<p>“Yes, they have.”</p> +<p>His voice was cold, almost stern.</p> +<p>“Kindly telegraph your Whitby address to me,” he +said to Hume. Then he walked to the door, leaving them +brusquely.</p> +<p>For once in his career he was deeply annoyed.</p> +<p>“Confound all women!” he muttered in anger. +“They nurse some petty little secret, some childish love +affair, and deem its preservation more important than their own +happiness, or the lives of their best friends. They are all +alike—duchess or scullery-maid. Their fluttering hearts are +all the world to them, and everything else chaos. If that woman +only chose—”</p> +<p>“Mr. Brett!” came a clear voice along the +corridor.</p> +<p>It was Margaret. She came to him hastily</p> +<p>“Why do you suspect me?” she exclaimed brokenly. +“I am the most miserable woman on earth. Suffering and death +environ me, and overwhelm those nearest and dearest. Yet what have +I done that you should think me capable of concealing from you +material facts which would be of use to you?”</p> +<p>The barrister was tempted to retort that what she believed to be +“material” might indeed be of very slight service to +him, but the contrary proposition held good, too.</p> +<p>Then he saw the anguish in her face, and it moved him to say +gently:</p> +<p>“Go back to your friends, Mrs. Capella. I am not the +keeper of your conscience. I am almost sure you are worrying +yourself about trifles. Whatever they may be, you are not +responsible. Rest assured of this, in a few days much that is now +dim and troublous will be cleared up. I ask you nothing further. I +would prefer not to hear anything you wish to say to me. It might +fetter my hands Good-bye!”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XXIV" id="Ch_XXIV">Chapter XXIV</a></h3> +<h2>The Meeting</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>“There!” he said to himself, as he passed +downstairs, “I am just as big a fool as she is. She followed +me to make a clean breast of everything, and I send her back with a +request to keep her lips sealed. Yet I am angry with her for the +risk she is taking!”</p> +<p>He reached the hall and was about to cross the foyer when he +caught the words, “Gentleman thrown out of a cab,” +uttered by a handsome girl, cheaply but gaudily attired, who was +making some inquiry at the bureau.</p> +<p>He stopped and searched for a match. Then he became interested +in the latest news, pinned in strips on the baize-covered board of +a “ticker.”</p> +<p>The girl explained to an official that she had witnessed an +accident that evening. She was told that a gentleman who lived in +the hotel was hurt. Was he seriously injured?</p> +<p>The hotel man, from long practice, was enabled to sum up such +inquirers rapidly.</p> +<p>“Do you know the gentleman?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“No—that is, slightly.”</p> +<p>“Well, madam, if you give me your card I will send it to +his friends. They will give you all necessary +information.”</p> +<p>She became confused. She was not accustomed to the quiet +elegance of a great hotel. The men in evening dress, the gorgeously +attired ladies passing to elevator or drawing-room, seemed to be +listening to her. Why did the bureau keeper speak so loudly? Then +the assurance of the Cockney came to her aid.</p> +<p>“I don’t see why there should be such a fuss about +nothing,” she said. “I don’t know his people. I +saw the gentleman pitched out of a cab and was sorry for him, so I +just called to ask how he was.”</p> +<p>She angrily tossed her head, and stared insolently at an old +lady who came to inquire if there were any letters for the Countess +of Skerry and Ness.</p> +<p>“No letters, your ladyship,” said the man. +“And you, miss, must either send a personal message or see +the manager.”</p> +<p>The young woman bounced out in a fury, and Brett followed her, +silently thanking the favouring planets which had sent him down the +stairs at the very moment when the girl was proffering her request +to the clerk.</p> +<p>Fortunately, the weather was better now. There was a clear sky +overhead, and the streets looked quite cheerful after the steady +downpour, London’s myriad lamps being reflected in glistening +zigzags across the wet pavement.</p> +<p>The girl did not head towards the busy Strand, but walked direct +to Charing Cross station on the District Railway.</p> +<p>The barrister thought she intended to go somewhere by train. He +quickened his pace in order to be able to rapidly obtain a ticket +and thus keep up with her. Herein he was lucky. To his surprise, +she passed out of the station on the embankment side.</p> +<p>He followed, and nowhere could he see her. Then he remembered +the steps leading to the footpath along the Hungerford Bridge. +Running up these steps he soon caught sight of the young woman, who +was walking rapidly towards Waterloo.</p> +<p>A man of the artisan class stared at her as she passed, and said +something to her. She turned fiercely.</p> +<p>“Do you want a swipe on the jaw?” she demanded.</p> +<p>No, he did not. What had he done, he would like to know.</p> +<p>“You mind your own business,” she said. “Where +am I goin’, indeed. What’s it got to do with +you?”</p> +<p>The episode was valuable to the listening barrister. It +classified the anxious inquirer after Hume’s health.</p> +<p>Her abashed admirer hung back, and the girl resumed her onward +progress. The man was conscious that the gentleman behind him must +have heard what passed. He endeavoured to justify himself.</p> +<p>“She’s pretty O.T., she is,” he grinned.</p> +<p>“Do you know her?” said Brett.</p> +<p>“I know her by sight. Seen her in the York now an’ +then.”</p> +<p>“She can evidently take care of herself.”</p> +<p>“Ra—ther. Don’t you so much as look at her, +mister, or off goes your topper into the river. She’s in a +bad temper to-night.”</p> +<p>Brett laughed and walked ahead. On reaching the Surrey side the +girl made for the Waterloo Road. There she mounted on top of a +’bus. The barrister went inside. He thought of the “man +with black, snaky eyes,” who “took +penn’orths” all the way from the Elephant to +Whitehall.</p> +<p>And now he, Brett, took a penn’orth to the Elephant. The +’bus reached that famous centre of humanity, passing thence +through Newington Butts to the Kennington Park Road.</p> +<p>In the latter thoroughfare the girl skipped down from the roof, +and disdaining the conductor’s offer to stop, swung herself +lightly to the ground. The barrister followed, and soon found +himself tracking her along a curved street of dingy houses.</p> +<p>Into one of these she vanished. It chanced to be opposite a +gas-lamp, and as he walked past he made out the +number—37.</p> +<p>Externally it was exactly like its neighbours, dull, soiled, +pinched, old curtains, worn blinds, blistered paint. He knew that +if he walked inside he would tread on a strip of oilcloth, once gay +in red and yellow squares, but now worn to a dirty grey uniformity. +In the “hall” he would encounter a rickety hat-stand +faced by an ancient print entitled “Idle Hours,” and +depicting two ladies, reclining on rocks, attired in tremendous +skirts, tight jackets, and diminutive straw hats perched between +their forehead and chignons—in the middle distance a fat +urchin, all hat and frills, staring stupidly at the ocean.</p> +<p>In the front sitting-room he would encounter horse-hair chairs, +frayed carpet, and more early Victorian prints; in the back +sitting-room more frayed carpet, more prints, and possibly a +bed.</p> +<p>Nothing very mysterious or awe-inspiring about 37 Middle Street, +yet the barrister was loth to leave the place. The scent of the +chase was in his nostrils. He had “found.”</p> +<p>He was tempted to boldly approach and frame some excuse—a +hunt for lodgings, an inquiry for a missing friend, anything to +gain admittance and learn something, however meagre in result, of +the occupants.</p> +<p>He reviewed the facts calmly. To attempt, at such an hour, to +glean information from the sharp-tongued young person who had just +admitted herself with a latchkey, was to court failure and +suspicion. He must bide his time. Winter was an adept in ferreting +out facts concerning these localities and their denizens. To Winter +the inquiry must be left.</p> +<p>He stopped at the further end of the street, lit a cigar, and +walked back.</p> +<p>He had again passed No. 37, giving a casual glance to the second +floor front window, in which a light illumined the blind, when he +became aware that a man was approaching from the Kennington Park +Road. Otherwise the street was empty.</p> +<p>The lamp opposite No. 37 did not throw its beams far into the +gloom, but the advancing figure instantly enlisted Brett’s +attention.</p> +<p>The man was tall and strongly built. He moved with the ease of +an athlete. He walked with a long, swinging stride, yet carried +himself erect He was attired in a navy blue serge suit and a bowler +hat.</p> +<p>The two were rapidly nearing each other.</p> +<p>At ten yards’ distance Brett knew that the other man was +he whom he sought, the murderer of Sir Alan Hume-Frazer, the human +ogre whose mission on earth seemed to be the extinction of all who +bore that fated name.</p> +<p>It is idle to deny that Brett was startled by this unexpected +rencontre. Not until he made the discovery did he remember that he +was carrying the stick rescued from the mud of Northumberland +Avenue.</p> +<p>The knowledge gave him an additional thrill. Though he could be +cool enough in exciting circumstances, though his quiet courage had +more than once saved his life in moments of extreme peril, though +physically he was more than able to hold his own with, say, the +average professional boxer, he fully understood that the individual +now about to pass within a stride could kill him with ridiculous +ease.</p> +<p>Would this dangerous personage recognise his own +stick?—that was the question.</p> +<p>If he did, Brett could already see himself describing a parabola +in the air, could hear his skull crashing against the pavement. He +even went so far as to sit with the coroner’s jury and bring +in a verdict of “Accidental Death.”</p> +<p>In no sense did Brett exaggerate the risk he encountered. The +individual who could stab Sir Alan to death with a knife like a +toy, hurl a stalwart sailor into the middle of a street without +perceptible effort, and bring down a horse and cab at the precise +instant and in the exact spot determined upon after a +second’s thought, was no ordinary opponent.</p> +<p>Their eyes met.</p> +<p>Truly a fiendish-looking Hume-Frazer, a Satanic impersonation of +a fine human type. For the first and only time in his life Brett +regretted that he did not carry a revolver when engaged in his +semi-professional affairs.</p> +<p>The barrister, be it stated, wore the conventional frock-coat +and tall hat of society. His was a face once seen not easily +forgotten, the outlines classic and finely chiselled, the habitual +expression thoughtful, preoccupied, the prevalent idea conveyed +being tenacious strength. Quite an unusual person in Middle Street, +Kennington.</p> +<p>They passed.</p> +<p>Brett swung the stick carelessly in his left hand, but not so +carelessly that on the least sign of a hostile movement he would be +unable to dash it viciously at his possible adversary’s +eyes.</p> +<p>He remembered the advice of an old cavalry officer: +“Always give ’em the point between the eyes. They come +head first, and you reach ’em at the earliest +moment.”</p> +<p>Nevertheless, he experienced a quick quiver down his spine when +the other man deliberately stopped and looked after him. He did not +turn his head, but he could “feel” that vicious glance +travelling over him, could hear the unspoken question: “Now, +I wonder who <em>you</em> are, and what you want here?”</p> +<p>He staggered slightly, recovered his balance, and went on. It +was a masterpiece of suggestiveness, not overdone, a mere wink of +intoxication, as it were.</p> +<p>It sufficed. Such an explanation accounts for many things in +London.</p> +<p>The watcher resumed his interrupted progress. Brett crossed the +street and deliberately knocked at the door of a house in which the +ground floor was illuminated.</p> +<p>Someone peeped through a blind, the door opened as far as a +rattling chain would permit.</p> +<p>“Good evening,” said Brett.</p> +<p>“What do you want?” demanded a suspicious woman.</p> +<p>“Mr. Smith—Mr. Horatio Smith.”</p> +<p>“He doesn’t live here.”</p> +<p>“Dear me! Isn’t this 76 Middle Street?”</p> +<p>“Yes; all the same, there’s no Smiths +here.”</p> +<p>The door slammed; but the barrister had attained his object. The +other man had entered No. 37.</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XXV" id="Ch_XXV">Chapter XXV</a></h3> +<h2>Where Did Margaret Go?</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>In the Kennington Park Road he hailed hansom and drove home. +Winter awaited him, for Smith now admitted the detective without +demur should his master be absent.</p> +<p>The barrister walked to a sideboard, produced a decanter of +brandy, and helped himself to a stiff dose.</p> +<p>“Ah,” he said pleasantly, “our American +cousins call it a ‘corpse reviver,’ but a corpse could +not do that, could he, Winter?”</p> +<p>“I know a few corpses that would like to try. But what is +up, sir? I have not often seen you in need of +stimulants.”</p> +<p>“I am most unfeignedly glad to give you the opportunity. +Winter, suppose, some time to-morrow, you were told that the body +of Reginald Brett, Esq., barrister-at-law, and a well-known amateur +investigator of crime, had been picked up shortly after midnight in +the Kennington district, whilst the medical evidence showed that +death was caused by a fractured skull, the result of a fall, there +being no other marks of violence on the person, what would you have +thought?”</p> +<p>“It all depends upon the additional facts that came to +light.”</p> +<p>“I will tell them to you. You were aware that I had +quitted the hotel, because you called there?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Whom did you see?”</p> +<p>“Mr. David. He said that you were angry with Mrs. Capella, +for no earthly reason that he could make out. He further informed +me that she had followed you when you left the room, and had not +returned, being presumably in her own apartment.”</p> +<p>“Anything further?”</p> +<p>“Mr. Hume asked Miss Layton to go and see if Mrs. Capella +had retired for the night. Miss Layton came back, looking rather +scared, with the information that Mrs. Capella had dressed and gone +out. After a little further talk we came to the conclusion that you +were both together. Was that so?”</p> +<p>Brett had commenced his cross-examination with the intention of +humorously proving to Winter that he (the detective) would suspect +the wrong person of committing the imagined murder. Now he +straightened himself, and continued in deadly earnest:</p> +<p>“When did you leave the hotel?”</p> +<p>“About 10.15.”</p> +<p>“Had not Mrs. Capella returned?”</p> +<p>“Not a sign of her. Miss Layton was alarmed, both the men +furious, Mr. Robert particularly so. I did not see any use in +remaining there; thought, in fact, I ought to obey orders and await +you here, so here I am.”</p> +<p>The barrister scribbled on a card: “Is Mrs. C. at +home?” He rang for Smith, and said:</p> +<p>“Take a cab to Mr. Hume’s hotel. Give him that card, +and bring me the answer. If you and the cabman must have a drink +together, kindly defer the function until after your +return.”</p> +<p>Smith took such jibes in good part. He knew full well that to +attempt to argue with his master would produce a list of previous +convictions.</p> +<p>Then Brett proceeded to amaze Winter in his turn, giving him a +full, true, and complete history of events since his parting from +Mrs. Capella in the corridor.</p> +<p>He had barely finished the recital when Smith returned with a +note:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“Yes; she came in at 10.45, and has since retired for the +night. She says that her head ached, that she wanted to be alone, +and went for a long walk. Seemed rather to resent our anxiety. +Helen and I will be glad when we are all safely away from London. +D.H.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The barrister pondered over this communication for a long +time.</p> +<p>“I fear,” he said at last, “that I came away +from Middle Street a few minutes too soon. To tell the truth, I was +in an abject state of fear. Next time I meet Mr. Frazer the Third I +will be ready for him.”</p> +<p>“Is he really so like the others that he might be mistaken +for one of them?”</p> +<p>“In a sense, yes. He has the same figure, general +conformation, and features. But in other respects he is utterly +different. Have you ever seen a great actor in the role of +Mephistopheles?”</p> +<p>“I don’t remember. My favourite villain was Barry +Sullivan as Richard III.”</p> +<p>Brett laughed hysterically.</p> +<p>“Let me speak more plainly. You have, no doubt, a vague +picture in your mind of a certain gentleman of the highest descent +who is popularly credited with the possession of horns, hoofs, and +a barbed tail?”</p> +<p>“I’ve heard of him.”</p> +<p>“Very well. You will see someone very like him, minus the +adornments aforesaid, when you set eyes on the principal occupant +of 37 Middle Street.”</p> +<p>Winter slowly assimilated this description. Then he +inquired:</p> +<p>“Why did you say just now that you came away from Middle +Street a few minutes too soon?”</p> +<p>“Where did Mrs. Capella go when she left the +hotel?”</p> +<p>“If she went to visit the man you met, then she is acting +in collision with her brother’s murderer, and she knows +it.”</p> +<p>“That is a hard thing to say, Winter.”</p> +<p>“It is a harder thing to credit, sir; but one cannot +reject all evidence, merely because it happens to be +straightforward and not hypothetical.”</p> +<p>“Winter, you are sneering at me.”</p> +<p>“No; I am only trying to make you admit the tendency of +facts discovered by yourself. There is a period in all criminal +investigation when deductive reasoning becomes +inductive.”</p> +<p>“Now I have got you,” cried Brett “I thought I +recognised the source of your new-born philosophy in the first +postulate. The second convinces me. You have been reading +‘The Murders in the Rue Morgue.’”</p> +<p>“The book is in my pocket,” admitted Winter.</p> +<p>“I recommend you to transfer it to your head. It should be +issued departmentally as a supplement to the Police Code. But let +us waste no more time. To-morrow we have much to +accomplish.”</p> +<p>“I am all attention.”</p> +<p>“In the first place, Mrs. Capella is leaving London for +the North. She must not be regarded in our operations. The woman is +weighted with a secret. I am sorry for her. I prefer to allow +events as supplied by others to unravel the skein. Secondly, Jiro +and his wife, and all who visit them, or whom they visit, must be +watched incessantly. Get all the force required for this operation +in its fullest sense. You, with one trusted associate, must keep a +close eye on No. 37 Middle Street. On no account obtrude yourself +personally into affairs there. Rather miss twenty opportunities +than scare that man by one false move. Do you understand me +thoroughly?”</p> +<p>“I am to see and not be seen. If I cannot do the one +without the other, I must do neither.”</p> +<p>“Exactly. What a holiday you are having! You will return +to the Yard with an expanded brain. When you buy a new hat you will +be astounded and gratified. But beware of the fate of the frog in +the fable. He inflated himself until he emulated the size of the +bull.”</p> +<p>“And then?”</p> +<p>“Oh, then he burst.”</p> +<p>The detective changed the conversation abruptly.</p> +<p>“What do you propose doing, Mr. Brett?”</p> +<p>“I purpose reading a chapter in ‘The Stowmarket +Mystery,’ written by your friend, Mr. Holden.”</p> +<p>They heard a loud rat-tat on the outer door.</p> +<p>“Probably,” continued Brett, “this is its +title.”</p> +<p>Smith entered with a telegram. It was in the typed capitals +usually associated with Continental messages. It read:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“Johnson leaves Naples to-night with others, I travel same +train.—HOLDEN.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The barrister surveyed the simple words with an intensity that +indicated his desire to wrest from their context its hidden +significance.</p> +<p>Winter, more subject to the influences of the hour, puffed his +cigar furiously.</p> +<p>“You arrange your words to suit the next act for all the +world like an Adelphi play,” he growled.</p> +<p>“I see that Holden has the same gift. What does he mean by +‘others’? Who is Capella bringing with him?”</p> +<p>“Witnesses,” volunteered Winter.</p> +<p>“Just so; but witnesses in what cause?”</p> +<p>“How the—how can I tell?”</p> +<p>“By applying your borrowed logic. Try the deductive +reasoning you flung at me a while ago.”</p> +<p>“I don’t quite know what ‘deductive’ +means,” was the sulky admission.</p> +<p>“That is the first step towards wisdom. You admit +ignorance. Deduction, in this sense, is the process of deriving +consequences from admitted facts. Now, mark you. Capella wishes to +be rid of his wife, by death or legal separation. He thinks he +wants to marry Miss Layton. He is convinced that something within +his power, if done effectively, will bring about both events. He +can shunt Mrs. Capella, and so disgust Miss Layton with the +Hume-Frazers that she will turn to the next ardent and sympathetic +wooer that presents himself. He knew the points of his case, and +went to Naples to procure proofs. He has obtained them. They are +chiefly living persons. He is bringing them to England, and their +testimony will convict Mrs. Capella of some wrong-doing, either +voluntary or involuntary. Holden knows what Capella has +accomplished, and thinks it is unnecessary to remain longer in +Naples. He is right. I tell you, Winter, I like Holden.”</p> +<p>“And I tell you, Mr. Brett, that if I swallowed the whole +of Mr. Poe’s stories, I couldn’t make out +Holden’s telegram in that fashion. So I must stick to my own +methods, and I’ve put away a few wrong ’uns in my time. +When shall I see you next?”</p> +<p>Brett took out his watch.</p> +<p>“At seven p.m., the day after to-morrow,” he said +coolly. “Until then my address is ‘Hotel Metropole, +Brighton.’”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XXVI" id="Ch_XXVI">Chapter XXVI</a></h3> +<h2>Mr. Ooma</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>He kept his word. Early next morning, after despatching a +message to David Hume, and receiving an answer—an +acknowledgment of his address in case of need—he took train +to London-by-the-Sea, and for thirty-six hours flung mysteries and +intrigues to the winds.</p> +<p>He came back prepared for the approaching climax. In such +matters he was a human barometer. The affairs of the family in +whose interests he had become so suddenly involved were rapidly +reaching an acute stage. Something must happen soon, and that +something would probably have tremendous and far-reaching +consequences.</p> +<p>Capella and his companions, known and unknown, would reach +London at 7.30 p.m. It pleased Brett to time his homeward journey +so that he would speed in the same direction, but arrive before +them.</p> +<p>In these trivial matters he owned to a boyish enthusiasm. It +stimulated him to “beat the other man,” even if he only +called upon the London, Brighton, and South Coast line to conquer a +weak opponent like the South-Eastern.</p> +<p>At his flat were several letters and telegrams. Mrs. Capella +wrote:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“I have seriously considered your last words to me. It is +hard for a woman, the victim of circumstances, and deprived of her +husband’s support at a most trying and critical period, to +know how to act for the best. You said you wished your hands to be +left unfettered. Well, be it so. You will encounter no hindrance +from me. I pray for your success, and can only hope that in +bringing happiness to others you will secure peace for +me.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Poor woman!” he murmured. “She still trusts +to chance to save her. Whom does she dread? Not her husband. Each +day that passes she must despise him the more. Does she know that +Robert loves her? Is she afraid that he will despise her? Really, a +collision in which Capella was the only victim would be a perfect +godsend.”</p> +<p>David telegraphed the safe arrival of the party at a Whitby +hotel. “We have seen nothing more of our Northumberland +Avenue acquaintance,” he added.</p> +<p>Holden, too, cabled from Paris, announcing progress. The +remainder of the correspondence referred to other matters and +social engagements, all which latter fixtures the barrister had +summarily broken.</p> +<p>Winter was announced. His face heralded important tidings.</p> +<p>“Well, how goes the ratiocinative process?’ was +Brett’s greeting.</p> +<p>“I don’t know him,” said the detective. +“But I do happen to know most of the private inquiry agents +in London, and one of ’em is going strong in Middle Street. +He’s watching Mr. Ooma for all he’s worth.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Whom-a?”</p> +<p>“I’m not joking, Mr. Brett. That is the name of the +mysterious gent in No. 37—Ooma, no initials. Anyhow, that is +the name he gives to the landlady, and her daughter—the girl +you followed from the hotel—tells all her friends that when +he gets his rights he will marry her and make her a +princess.”</p> +<p>“Ooma—a princess,” repeated Brett.</p> +<p>“Such is the yarn in Kennington circles. I obeyed orders +absolutely. I and my mate took turn about in the lodgings we hired, +where we are supposed to be inventors. My pal has a mechanical +twist. He puts together a small electric machine during his spell, +and I take it to pieces in mine. Yesterday my landlady was in the +room, and Ooma looked out of the opposite window. Then she told me +the whole story.”</p> +<p>“Go on—do!”</p> +<p>“Mr. Ooma is evidently puzzled to learn what has become of +the Hume-Frazers and Mrs. Capella.”</p> +<p>“Why do you bring in her name?”</p> +<p>“Because it leads to the second part of my story. +Someone—Capella or his solicitors, I expect—instructed +Messrs. Matchem and Smith, private detectives, to keep a close eye +on the lady. Their man is an ex-police constable, a former +subordinate of mine who was fined for taking a drink when he ought +not to. Of course, I knew him and he knew me, so I hadn’t +much trouble in getting it out of him.”</p> +<p>The speaker paused with due dramatic effect.</p> +<p>“Got what out of him?” cried Brett impatiently. +“And don’t puff your cheeks in that way. Remember the +terrible fate of the frog who would be a bull.”</p> +<p>“There’s neither frogs nor bulls in this +business,” retorted Winter, calm in the consciousness of his +coming revelation. “Mrs. Capella did go to Middle Street that +night. She drove there in a hansom, had a long talk with Ooma, and +nearly drove Miss Dew crazy with jealousy.”</p> +<p>“We guessed that already. Miss Dew is the prospective +princess, I presume?”</p> +<p>“Yes. She has been twice to the hotel since, trying to +find out where the party went to.”</p> +<p>“Next?”</p> +<p>“Ooma has plenty of money, and now for my prize +packet—he is a Jap!”</p> +<p>“Impossible!”</p> +<p>“This time you are wrong, Mr. Brett. You have only seen +him once. You were full of his remarkable likeness to the +Hume-Frazers. It is startling, I admit, and at night-time no man +living could avoid the mistake. But I tell you he is a Jap. He met +Jiro yesterday, and they walked in Kensington Palace Gardens. They +talked Japanese all the time. My mate heard them. He distinctly +caught the word ‘Okasaki’ more than once. He managed to +shadow them very neatly by hiring a bath-chair and telling the +attendant to come near to the pair every time there was a chance. +More than that, when you know it, you can see the Japanese eyes, +skin, and mouth. It is the grafting of the Jap on the European +model that gives him the likeness to—well, to the party you +mentioned the other day.”</p> +<p>“The devil!” exclaimed Brett.</p> +<p>“That’s him!”</p> +<p>It was useless to explain that the exclamation was one of +amazement.</p> +<p>The barrister began to roam about the apartment, frowning with +the intensity of his thoughts. Once he confronted Winter.</p> +<p>“Are you sure of this?” he demanded.</p> +<p>“So sure that were it not for your positive instructions, +Mr. Ooma would now be in Holloway, awaiting his trial on a charge +of murder. Look at the facts. ‘Rabbit Jack’ can +identify him. He knew how to use the Ko-Katana. He knew the +Japanese tricks of wrestling, which enabled him to make those two +clever attacks on the two cousins. He has some power over Mrs. +Capella, which brings her to him at eleven at night in a distant +quarter of London. He made Jiro write the typed letter in my +possession. He sent Jiro to Ipswich to attend Mr. David’s +second trial when the first missed fire. I can string Mr. Ooma on +that little lot.”</p> +<p>“Winter,” said Brett sternly, “you make me +tired. Have all these stunning items of intelligence invaded your +intellect only since you went to Middle Street?”</p> +<p>“No, not exactly, Mr. Brett. I must admit that each one of +them is your discovery, except the fact that he is a +Jap—always excepting that—but yesterday I strung them +together, so to speak.”</p> +<p>“Ending your task by stringing Ooma, in imagination. I +allow you full credit for your sensational development—always +excepting this, that I sent you to Middle Street. Why did he kill +Sir Alan? How does his Japanese nationality elucidate an utterly +useless and purposeless murder?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know, Mr. Brett.”</p> +<p>“Unless I am much mistaken, you will learn to-night. +Holden is nearly due.”</p> +<p>The barrister resumed his stalk round the room. In another +minute he stopped to glance at his watch.</p> +<p>“Half-past seven,” he murmured. “Just time to +get a message through to Whitby, and perhaps a reply.”</p> +<p>He wrote a telegram to Hume: “Where is Fergusson? I want +to see him.”</p> +<p>“What has Fergusson got to do with the business?” +asked the detective.</p> +<p>“Probably nothing. But he is the oldest available +repository of the family secrets. His master has told him to be +explicit with me. By questioning him, I may solve the riddle +presented by Mr. Ooma. Does the name suggest nothing to you, +Winter?”</p> +<p>“It has a Japanese ring about it.”</p> +<p>“Nothing Scotch? Isn’t it like Hume, for +instance?”</p> +<p>“By Jove! I never thought of that. Well, there, I give in. +Ooma! Dash my buttons, that beats cock-fighting!”</p> +<p>The barrister paid no heed to Winter’s fall from +self-importance. He pondered deeply on the queer twist given to +events by the detective’s statement. At last he took a volume +from his book-case.</p> +<p>“Do you remember what I told you about Japanese +names?” he said. “I described to you, for instance, +what strange mutations your surname would undergo were you born in +the Far East.”</p> +<p>“Yes; I would be called Spring, Summer, etc, according to +my growth.”</p> +<p>“Then listen to this,” and he read the following +extract from that excellent work, “The Mikado’s +Empire,” by W.E. Griffis:</p> +<p>“It has, until recently, in Japan been the custom for +every Samurai to be named differently in babyhood, boyhood, +manhood, or promotion, change of life, or residence, in +commemoration of certain events, or on account of a vow, or from +mere whim.”</p> +<p>“What a place for aliases!” interpolated the +professional.</p> +<p>“At the birth of a famous warrior,” went on Brett, +“his mother, having dreamed that she conceived by the sun, +called him Hiyoshi Maro (good sun). Others dubbed him Ko Chiku +(small boy), and afterward Saru Watsu (monkey-pine).”</p> +<p>He closed the volume.</p> +<p>“This gentleman has twenty other names,” he added; +“but the foregoing list will suffice. Doesn’t it strike +you as odd that the man who struck down the fifth Hume-Frazer +baronet on the spot so fatal to his four predecessors, should bring +from a country given to such name-changes a cognomen that +irresistibly recalls the original enemy of the family, David +Hume?”</p> +<p>“It is odd,” asserted Winter.</p> +<p>Someone rang, and was admitted.</p> +<p>“Mr. Holden,” announced Smith.</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XXVII" id="Ch_XXVII">Chapter XXVII</a></h3> +<h2>Holden’s Story</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>The long-nosed ex-sergeant entered. His sallow face was browned +after his long journeys and exposure to the Italian sun in +midsummer. He was soiled and travel-stained.</p> +<p>“Excuse my appearance,” he said. “I have had +no time for even a wash since this morning. On board the boat I +thought it best to keep a constant watch on Capella and his +companions.”</p> +<p>“Who are they?” demanded Brett.</p> +<p>Mr. Holden looked at the barrister with an injured air.</p> +<p>“I am a man of few words, sir,” he said, “and +if you do not mind, I will tell my story in my own way.”</p> +<p>Winter was secretly delighted to hear the “Old +’Un,” as they called him in the Yard, take a rise out +of Brett in this manner.</p> +<p>“Perhaps,” exclaimed the barrister, “your few +words will come more easily if you wet your whistle.”</p> +<p>“Well, I must admit that Italian wine—”</p> +<p>“Is not equal to Scotch; or is it Irish?”</p> +<p>“Irish, sir, if you please.”</p> +<p>Mr. Holden’s utterance having been cleared of cinders, he +made a fresh start.</p> +<p>“As I was saying, gentlemen, I kept an observant eye on +Capella and his companions, and at the same time occupied myself in +the fashioning of certain little models with which to illustrate my +subsequent remarks.”</p> +<p>He produced a map of Naples, which he carefully smoothed out on +the table, pressing the creases with his fingers until Brett itched +to tweak his long nose.</p> +<p>The man was evidently a Belfast Irishman, and the barrister +forced himself to find amusement in speculating how such an +individual came to speak Italian fluently. Speculation on this +abstruse problem, however, yielded to keen interest in Mr. +Holden’s proceedings.</p> +<p>On the face of the map he located a number of small wooden +carvings, which were really very ingenious. They represented +churches, an hotel, a mansion, three ordinary houses, a rambling +building like a public institution, and a nondescript structure +difficult to classify.</p> +<p>“I find,” said Mr. Holden, when the +<em>mise-en-scène</em> was quite to his liking, “that +a good map, and a few realistic models of the principal buildings +dealt with in my discourse, give a lucidity and a coherence +otherwise foreign to the narrative.”</p> +<p>Even Winter became restive under this style of address. Brett +caught his eye, and moved by common impulse, they lessened the +whisky-mark in a decanter of Antiquary.</p> +<p>“Allow me to remark,” interpolated Brett, +“that your telegrams were admirably terse and to the +point.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, sir. Many eminent judges have complimented me +on my manner of giving evidence. And now to business. I arrived at +the railway station here” (touching the non-descript +building), “and took a room in the Villa Nuova here” +(he laid a finger on the mansion), “which, as you see, is +quite close to the Hotel de Londres here” (a flourish over +the hotel), “at which, as I expected, Mr. Capella took up his +abode. According to your instructions I obtained a competent +assistant, a native of Naples, and we both awaited Mr. +Capella’s arrival. He reached Naples at 10.30 a.m. the day +following my advent at night, and after breakfast drove straight to +the Reclusorio, or Asylum for the Poor, situated here” (he +indicated the institution), “close to the Botanical Gardens. +Mr. Capella arranged with the authorities to withdraw from the +poorhouse an elderly woman named Maria Bresciano. It subsequently +transpired that she was a nurse employed by a certain English +gentleman named Fraser Beechcroft, who became entangled with a +beautiful Italian girl named Margarita di Orvieto some twenty-eight +years ago.”</p> +<p>Mr. Holden paid not the remotest attention to the looks of +amazement exchanged between Brett and Winter. He merely paused to +take breath and peer benignantly at the map, following lines +thereon with the index finger of his right hand.</p> +<p>“It appears further,” he resumed, “that the +Englishman and the Signorina di Orvieto could not marry, on account +of some foolish religious scruples held by the young lady, but they +entertained a very violent passion for each other, met +clandestinely, and a female child was born, whose baptism is +registered, under the name of Margarita di Orvieto, in the church +of the village of La Scutillo here.” (He tapped a tiny spired +edifice on the edge of the map.)</p> +<p>“The two were living there in great secrecy, as they were +in fear of their lives, not alone from the young lady’s +relatives, but from her discarded lover, the Marchese di Capella, +father of the present Mr. Giovanni Capella, who has dropped his +title in England. The old woman, Maria Bresciano, attended the +signorina and her child, but unfortunately the mother died, and her +death is registered both by the civil authorities in the Minadoi +section here” (lifting a small house bodily off the map), +“and by the ecclesiastical here” (he touched another +spire).</p> +<p>“The affair created some stir in the Naples of that day, +but Beechcroft’s suffering, the calm daring with which, after +the girl’s death, he defied those who had vowed vengeance on +him, and the generally passionate nature of the attachment between +the two, created much public sympathy for him. Among others who +were attracted to him were a Mr. and Mrs. Somers, and their +daughter, then resident in Naples. Oddly enough, Beechcroft did not +content himself with securing efficient care for his child, but +brought the infant to the Hotel de Londres—you note the +coincidence—where it was nurtured under his personal +supervision.”</p> +<p>Brett drew a long breath. So this was Margaret’s secret +and Capella’s vengeance! He was aroused, as from a dream, by +Mr. Holden’s steady voice.</p> +<p>“Mr. Beechcroft always held that the Signorina di Orvieto +was his true wife in the eyes of Heaven, for their marriage was +only prevented by a most uncalled-for and unnatural threat of +incurring her father’s dying curse it she dared to wed a +Protestant. Eighteen months after her death he married Miss Somers +at the British Consulate, and revealed his real name and +rank—Sir Alan Hume-Frazer, baronet, of Beechcroft, near +Stowmarket, England. His lady adopted the infant girl as her own, +and local gossip had it that this was a part of the marriage +contract, whilst the ceremony took place at an early date to give +colour to the kindly pretence. The pair lived in a distant suburb, +at Donzelle here” (another church fixed the spot), “and +in twelve months a boy was born, birth registered locally and in +the British Consulate. After four more years’ residence in +Naples, Sir Alan and Lady Hume-Frazer left Italy with their two +children. Mr. Capella found two of their old servants, Giuseppe +Conti and Lola Rintesano, living in these small houses here and +here” (the remaining houses were lifted into prominence).</p> +<p>“Mr. Capella married Miss Margaret Hume-Frazer in Naples +last January, the marriage being properly registered. His estates +are situated in the South of Italy, and his father retired thither +permanently during the scandal that took place twenty-eight years +ago. Mr. Capella has brought with him the persons named as the +nurse and servants, together with certified copies of all the +documents cited. I also have certified copies of those documents, I +now produce them, together with a detailed statement of my +expenses. Mr. Capella is residing in a neighbouring +hotel.”</p> +<p>The methodical police-sergeant laid some neatly docketed folios +on the table near the map, and sat down for the first time since +entering the room.</p> +<p>As a matter of fact, he had not uttered an unnecessary word. +Other men, describing similar complexities, would have given +particulars of their adventures, how this thing had been done, and +that person wheedled into confidences.</p> +<p>Mr. Holden rose superior to these considerations. His mission +was all-important, and he had certainly fulfilled it to the +letter.</p> +<p>“If ever a grateful country makes me a judge, Mr. +Holden,” said Brett, “I will add another to the +encomiums you have received from the Bench. Indeed, before this +affair ends, that pleasant task may be performed by an existing +judge, for I do not see now how we are going to keep out of the +law-courts. Do you, Winter?”</p> +<p>“Looks like a murder case plus a divorce,” commented +the detective.</p> +<p>“You are leaving out of count the biggest sensation, +namely, the title to the Beechcroft estates. Under her +father’s will, if it is very cleverly drawn, Mrs. Capella may +receive £1,000 per annum. She has not the remotest claim to +Beechcroft and its revenues or to her brother’s intestate +estate.”</p> +<p>Winter whistled.</p> +<p>“My eye!” he exclaimed. “What is Capella going +to get out of it?”</p> +<p>“Revenge! His is a legacy of hate, like most other +benefactions in the Hume-Frazer family. The next move rests with +him. I wonder what it will be!”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XXVIII" id="Ch_XXVIII">Chapter XXVIII</a></h3> +<h2>Mr. and Mrs. Jiro</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Chance, at times, tangles the threads on which human lives +depend, and creates such a net of knots and meshes that intelligent +foresight is rendered powerless, and plans that ought to succeed +are doomed to utter failure.</p> +<p>It was so during the three days succeeding Capella’s +return from Italy. Reviewing events in the lights of accomplished +facts, Brett subsequently saw many opportunities where his +intervention would have altered the fortunes of the men and women +in whom he had become so interested.</p> +<p>Although he endeavoured to keep control of circumstances, it was +impossible to predict with certainty the manner in which the fifth +act of this tragedy in real life would unfold itself.</p> +<p>Would he have ordered things differently had he possessed the +power? He never knew. It was a question he refused to discuss with +Winter long after everybody was comfortably married or buried, as +the case might be.</p> +<p>To divide labour and responsibility, he apportioned Ooma and his +surroundings to Winter, Capella to Holden. The strict supervision +maintained over the Jiro family was relaxed. Brett proposed dealing +with them summarily and in person.</p> +<p>Holden had barely concluded his remarkable narrative when +Hume’s reply came from Whitby, giving the address of the +hotel where Fergusson resided.</p> +<p>Brett went there at once, and found the old butler on the point +of retiring for the night.</p> +<p>Fergusson was at first disinclined to commit himself to definite +statements. With characteristic Scottish caution, he would neither +say “yes” nor “no” until the barrister +reminded him that he was not acting in his young master’s +interests by being so reticent.</p> +<p>“Weel, sir, I’m an auld man, and mebbe a bit +haverin’ in my judgment. Just ask me what ye wull, an’ +I’ll dae my best to answer ye,” was the butler’s +ultimate concession.</p> +<p>“You remember the day of the murder?”</p> +<p>“Shall I ever forget it?”</p> +<p>“Before Mr. David Hume-Fraser arrived at Beechcroft from +London, had any other visitors seen Sir Alan?”</p> +<p>This was a poser. No form of ambiguity known to Fergusson would +serve to extricate him from a direct reply.</p> +<p>“Ay, Mr. Brett,” came his reply at last. “One +I can swear to.”</p> +<p>“That was Mr. Robert Hume-Fraser, who met him in the park, +and walked with him there about three to four o’clock in the +afternoon. Were there others whom you cannot swear to?”</p> +<p>The butler darted a quick glance at the other.</p> +<p>“Ye ken, sir,” he said, “that the Hume-Frazers +are mixed up wi’ an auld Scoatch hoose?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Weel, sir, there’s things that happen in this world +which no man can explain. Five are dead, and five had to die by +violent means. Who arranged that?”</p> +<p>“Neither you nor I can tell.”</p> +<p>“That’s right, sir. I know that Mr. David or Mr. +Robert never lifted a hand against their cousin, yet, unless the +Lord blinded my auld een, I saw ane or ither in the avenue when I +tried to lift Sir Alan frae the groond.”</p> +<p>“You said nothing of this at the time?”</p> +<p>“Would ye hae me speak o’ wraiths to a Suffolk jury, +Mr. Brett? I saw no mortal man. ’Twas a ghaist for sure, +an’ if I had gone into the box to talk of such things they +wad hae discredited my evidence about Mr. David. I might hae hanged +him instead o’ savin’ him.”</p> +<p>“Suppose I tell you that the man you saw was no ghost, but +real flesh and blood, a Japanese descendant of the David Hume who +fought and killed the first Sir Alan in 1763, what would you +say?”</p> +<p>“I would say, sir, that it had to be, were it ever so +strange.”</p> +<p>“Have you ever, in gossip about family records, heard +anything of the fate of the David Hume I have just +mentioned.”</p> +<p>“Only this, sir. My people have lived on the Highland +estate longer than any Hume-Frazer of them a’. My father +remembered his grandfather sayin’ that a man who was in India +wi’ Clive met Mr. Hume in Calcutta. There was fightin’ +agin’ the French, an’ Mr. Hume would neither strike a +blow for King George nor draw a sword for the French, so he sailed +away to the East in a Dutch ship, and he was never heard of +afterwards.”</p> +<p>This was a most important confirmation of the theory evolved by +the barrister. For the rest, Fergusson’s reminiscences were +useless.</p> +<p>Next morning Brett went to Somerset House to consult the will in +which Margaret’s father left her £1,000 a year. Her +brother died intestate.</p> +<p>As he expected, the document was phrased adroitly. It read: +“I give and bequeath to Margaret Hume-Frazer, who has elected +to desert the home provided for her, the sum of—” etc., +etc.</p> +<p>The fact that she was, in the eyes of the law, an illegitimate +child could not invalidate this bequest. For the rest, he imagined +that when her brother died so unexpectedly, no one ever dreamed of +inquiring into the well-intentioned fraud perpetrated by Lady +Hume-Frazer and her husband. Margaret was unquestionably accepted +as the heiress to her brother’s property, the estate being +unentailed.</p> +<p>Then he drove to 17 St. John’s Mansions, Kensington, where +Mr. and Mrs. Jiro were “at home.” They received him in +the tiny drawing-room, and the lady’s manner betokened some +degree of nervousness, which she vainly endeavoured to conceal by a +pretence of bland curiosity as to the object of the +barrister’s visit.</p> +<p>Not so Numagawa, whose sharp ferret eyes snapped with +anxiety.</p> +<p>Brett left them under no doubt from the commencement. He +addressed his remarks wholly to the Japanese.</p> +<p>“You have an acquaintance—perhaps I should say a +confederate—residing at No. 37 Middle Street, +Kennington—” he began.</p> +<p>“I do not understand,” broke in Jiro, whose sallow +face crinkled like a withered apple in the effort to display +non-comprehension.</p> +<p>“Oh yes, you do. The man’s name is Ooma. He is a +tall, strongly-built native of Japan. He sent you to Ipswich to +watch the trial of Mr. David Hume-Frazer for the murder of his +cousin. He got you to write the post-card to Scotland Yard on the +type-writer which you disposed of the day after my visit here. You +recognised the motto of his house in the design which I showed you, +and which was borne on the blade of the Ko-Katana. For some reason +which I cannot fathom, unless you are his accomplice, you made your +wife dress in male attire and go to warn him that some person was +on his track. You see I know everything.”</p> +<p>As each sentence of this indictment proceeded it was pitiable to +watch the faces of the couple. Jiro became a grotesque, fit to +adorn the ugliest of Satsuma plaques. Mrs. Jiro visibly swelled +with agitation. Brett felt that she was too full, and would +overflow with tears in an instant.</p> +<p>“This is vely bad!” gasped Jiro.</p> +<p>“Oh, Nummie dear, have we been doing wrong?” moaned +his spouse.</p> +<p>The barrister determined to frighten them thoroughly.</p> +<p>“It is a grave question with the authorities whether they +should not arrest you instantly,” he said.</p> +<p>“On what charge?” cried Jiro.</p> +<p>“On a charge of complicity after the act in relation to +the murder of Sir Alan Hume-Frazer. Your accomplice, Ooma, is the +murderer.”</p> +<p>“What!” shrieked Mrs. Jiro, flouncing on to her +knees and breaking forth into piteous sobs. “Oh, my precious +infant! Oh, my darling Nummie! Will they part us from our +babe?”</p> +<p>The door opened, and a frowsy head appeared.</p> +<p>“Did you call, mum?” inquired the small +maid-servant.</p> +<p>“Get out!” shouted Brett; and the door slammed.</p> +<p>“Mr. Blett,” whimpered the Japanese, “I did +not do this thing. I am innocent. I knew nothing about it +until—until—”</p> +<p>“You verified the motto on the blade by consulting the +‘Nihon Suai Shi’ in the British Museum.”</p> +<p>This shot floored Jiro metaphorically, and his wife literally, +for she sank into a heap.</p> +<p>“He knows everything, Nummie,” she cried.</p> +<p>“Evelything!” repeated her husband.</p> +<p>“Then tell him the rest!”. (Yet she was born in +Suffolk.)</p> +<p>Brett scowled terribly as a subterfuge for laughter.</p> +<p>“Tell me,” he said, “why you helped this +amazing scoundrel?”</p> +<p>“I did not help,” squeaked Jiro, his voice becoming +shrill with excitement and fear. “He was my fliend. He is a +Samurai of Japan. We met in Okasaki, and again in London. I came to +England long after the clime you talk of. He told me these Flazel +people were bad people, who had lobbed his father in the old days. +He wanted them to be all hanged, then he would get money. He said +they might watch him and get him sent back to Japan, where he +belongs to a political palty who are always beheaded when they are +caught. So when you come, I think, ‘Hello, he wants to find +Ooma!’ I lite Ooma a letter, and he lite me to send Mrs. +Jilo, dlessed in man’s clothes, to tell him evelything. I did +that to save my fliend.”</p> +<p>“Have you Ooma’s letter?”</p> +<p>“Yes; hele it is.”</p> +<p>He took a document from a drawer, and Brett saw at a glance that +Jiro’s statement was correct.</p> +<p>“You appear to have acted as his tool throughout,” +was his scornful comment.</p> +<p>“But, Mr. Brett,” sobbed the stout lady, “I +ought to say that when I—when I—put on those +things—and met Mr. Ooma, I disobeyed my husband in one +matter. I—liked you—and was afraid of Mr. Ooma, so +instead of describing you to him I described Mr. Hume-Frazer from +what my husband told me of his appearance in the dock. He was the +first man I could think of, and it seemed to be best, as the +quarrel was between them. Only—I gave him—a beard and +moustache, so as to puzzle him more. Didn’t I, Nummie? I told +you when I came home.”</p> +<p>So Mrs. Jiro’s unconscious device had undoubtedly saved +Brett from a murderous attack, and Ooma had probably seen him leave +the Northumberland Avenue Hotel more than once whilst waiting to +waylay David Hume. Hence, too, the partial recognition by Ooma when +they met by night in Middle Street.</p> +<p>The barrister could not help being milder in tone as he +said:</p> +<p>“I believe you are both telling the truth. But this is a +very serious matter. You must never again communicate with Ooma in +any way. Avoid him as you would shun the plague, for within three +or four days he will be in gaol, and you will be called upon to +give evidence against him.”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XXIX" id="Ch_XXIX">Chapter XXIX</a></h3> +<h2>Margaret’s Secret</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>At his chambers Brett found Holden awaiting him, with the +tidings that Capella had gone to Whitby. The Italian’s +agents, Messrs. Matchem & Smith, had evidently ferreted out +Margaret’s whereabouts. Her husband, full of vengeful +thoughts and base schemings, hastened after her, rejoicing in the +knowledge that her cousins and Miss Layton would also be +present.</p> +<p>“As I knew exactly where he was going, and assumed his +object to be a domestic quarrel, I did not think it necessary to +accompany him until I had first consulted you, sir,” said the +imperturbable Holden.</p> +<p>“You acted quite rightly. Wait until the little beast +returns to London!” exclaimed the barrister, with some degree +of warmth.</p> +<p>Capella’s conduct reminded him of a spiteful child which +deserved a sound spanking. He telegraphed to Hume to inform him of +the fiery visitor who might be expected at the hotel that +evening.</p> +<p>Oddly enough, Helen, David, and the Rev. Mr. Layton, tempted by +a marine excursion to Scarborough and back, left Whitby Harbour on +a local steamer at 11 a.m., and were timed to return about 9 p.m. +Margaret was not a good sailor, so Robert Hume-Frazer remained with +her, the two going for a protracted stroll along the cliffs.</p> +<p>During their walk, the golden influences of the hour unlocked +Margaret’s heart. She was overwhelmed with the consciousness +of the wretched mistakes of her life. She could not help +contrasting the manly, gallant, out-spoken sailor by her side with +the miserable foreigner whom she had espoused under the influence +of a genuine but too violent passion. The knowledge that Robert +might, under happier conditions, have been her husband was crushing +and terrible.</p> +<p>There came to her some half-defined resolve to show her cousin +how unworthy she was of his affections. Stopping defiantly at a +moment when he casually called her attention to a lovely glimpse of +rock-bound sea framed in a deep gorge, she said to him:</p> +<p>“Robert, I have something to tell you. I was on the point +of telling Mr. Brett the last time I saw him in London, but he +would not permit it. You are my cousin, and ought to +know.”</p> +<p>“My dear girl,” he cried, “why this solemnity? +You give me shivers when you speak in that way!”</p> +<p>“Pray listen to me, Robert. This is no matter for jesting. +I am your cousin, but only in a sense. In the eyes of the law I am +a nameless outcast. My mother was not Alan’s mother. I was +born before my father married the lady who treated me as her +daughter until her death. My mother was an Italian, who died at my +birth, and whom my father never married.”</p> +<p>Frazer looked at the beautiful woman who addressed these +astonishing words to him, and amazement, incredulity, a spasm +almost of fear, held him dumb.</p> +<p>“It is too true, Robert. I did not know these things until +a few short months ago. Some one, I believe, told my husband the +truth soon after our marriage, and it was this discovery that so +changed his feelings towards me. At first I was utterly unable to +explain the awful alteration in his attitude. Not until I returned +to England and settled down at Beechcroft did I become aware of the +facts.”</p> +<p>“Surely, Rita, you are romancing?”</p> +<p>“No, there can be no doubt about it. I have seen the +proofs.”</p> +<p>“Proofs! How can you be certain? Who made these statements +to you?”</p> +<p>“I have been blackmailed, bled systematically for large +sums of money. At first I was beguiled into a correspondence. My +curiosity was aroused by references to my husband and to my +father’s will. Finally, I received copies of documents which +made matters clear even to my bewildered brain. More than that, I +was sent a memorandum, written by my father, in which he gave Alan +all the particulars, corroborated by extracts from registers, and +explaining the reasons which actuated him in framing his will so +curiously. We were never closely knit together, as you know. I +think now that he regarded me as the living evidence of the folly +of his earlier years, and perhaps my sensitive nature was quick to +detect this hidden feeling.”</p> +<p>“May I ask who blackmailed you?”</p> +<p>Robert’s face grew hard and stern. The woman experienced a +tumultuous joy as she saw it. She had at least one defender.</p> +<p>“That is the hard part of my story,” she murmured, +in a voice broken with emotion. “The correspondence took +place with a man named Ooma, a person I never even met at that +time, and—can you believe it, Robert—within the past +few days I have good reason to know that he is the murderer of my +brother, the man who endeavoured to kill both you and +David.”</p> +<p>Frazer caught her by the shoulder.</p> +<p>“Rita,” he said, “what has come to you? Are +you hysterical, or dreaming?”</p> +<p>“Oh, for pity’s sake, believe me!” she moaned. +“Mr. Brett knows it is true. What is worse, he knows that I +know it. I cannot bear this terrible secret any longer. I went to +this man’s house in London the other night, and boldly +charged him with the crime. He denied it, but I could see the lie +and the fear in his eyes. To avoid a terrible family scandal I came +here with you all. But I can bear it no longer. God help me and +pity me!”</p> +<p>“He will, Margaret. You have done no wrong that deserves +so much suffering.”</p> +<p>For a little while there was silence. Frazer was only able to +whisper gentle and kindly words of consolation. He would have given +ten years of his life to have the right to take her in his arms and +tell her that, let the world view her conduct as it would, in his +eyes she was blameless and lovable.</p> +<p>But this was denied him. She was the wife of another, of one +who, instead of shielding and supporting her, was even then engaged +in plotting her ruin.</p> +<p>“I nearly went mad,” she continued at last, +“when I first became acquainted with the truth concerning my +parentage. With calmer moments came the reflection that, after all, +I was my father’s child, the sister of Alan, and entitled +morally, if not legally, to succeed to the property. My wealth has +not benefited me, Robert, but at least I have tried to do good to +others.”</p> +<p>“You have, indeed,” he said tenderly. “But +tell me about this fiend, Ooma. You say you saw him. Then you were +in possession of his address?”</p> +<p>“Yes, during the past five months. When Mr. Brett first +appeared on the scene, I feared lest he should discover my secret. +How could I connect it with the death of my brother? The +explanation given to me was that the documents were purloined by a +servant years ago. It was not until the attacks on you and Davie, +and the chance mention he made of some curious marks in a +type-written communication received by Mr. Winter, that a horrible +suspicion awoke in my mind. I had received several type-written +letters” (Mr. Jiro, it would appear, had not told +“evelything” to Brett), “and I compared some of +those in London with the description given by Davie. They +corresponded exactly! Then I resolved to make sure, no matter what +the risk to myself, so I went to a place in Kennington the last +night we were in town, and there I saw Ooma. Oh, Robert, he is so +like you and Davie that at first it seems to be a romance! Only you +two look honest and brave, whereas he has the appearance of a +demon.”</p> +<p>Frazer looked at his watch.</p> +<p>“Brett ought to know all these things at once,” he +said. “Let us walk back to the hotel and wire him. Perhaps it +will be necessary for David and me to return to London +immediately.”</p> +<p>“Why? You are safe here? Why should you incur further +risk?”</p> +<p>He could not help looking at her. A slight colour suffused her +face. Then he laughed savagely.</p> +<p>“There will be no risk, Rita. Once let me meet Mr. Ooma as +man to man and I will teach him a trick or two, if only for your +sake. The law will deal with him for Alan’s affair. He has an +odd name! It has a Japanese ring, yet you say he resembles our +family?”</p> +<p>Margaret, of course, could only describe him in general terms. +As they returned to the hotel she explained her strange story in +greater detail, largely on the lines already known to Brett.</p> +<p>In the office they found a telegram addressed to David, but his +cousin opened it, believing it might be from Brett. It was, and +read as follows:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“Capella arrives Whitby five o’clock. I know +everything he has to tell you. If he becomes offensive, boot +him.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Robert did not show the message to his cousin. He gave her its +general purport, and added:</p> +<p>“Prepare yourself for an ordeal, but be brave. Perhaps +your husband is in the hotel now, as he must have reached here half +an hour ago.”</p> +<p>He had barely uttered the words when Mrs. Capella’s maid +approached.</p> +<p>“Mr. Capella is here, madam,” she said “and +awaits you in your sitting-room.”</p> +<p>Margaret became, if possible, a shade whiter.</p> +<p>“What about you, Robert?” she whispered.</p> +<p>“Me! I am going with you. Brett’s telegram is my +authority.”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XXX" id="Ch_XXX">Chapter XXX</a></h3> +<h2>Husband and Wife</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>The Italian was glaring out of a window when they entered the +room.</p> +<p>He turned instantly, with a waspish ferocity.</p> +<p>“So, madam.” he cried, “not content with +deceiving me from the first moment we met, you have left your home +in company with your lover!”</p> +<p>Margaret looked at Robert beseechingly. The sailor’s face +was like granite. Only his eyes flashed a warning that Capella +might have noted were he less blinded by passion.</p> +<p>“Do not attempt to shield yourself by the presence of +others!” screamed Capella. “I know that Miss Layton and +her father are here. That is part of the game you play. As for you, +Mr. David Hume, or whatever you call yourself, your own record is +not so clean that you should endeavour to cloak the misdeeds of +others.”</p> +<p>The Italian had never before seen Robert to his knowledge. He +only met David for a few moments during an angry scene at +Beechcroft, when Brett did most of the talking. The mistake he now +made was a natural one.</p> +<p>“It does not occur to you,” said Robert, in a voice +remarkable for its calmness, “that not content with grossly +insulting your wife, you are attacking the reputation of a man whom +you do not know.”</p> +<p>“Pooh!” Capella, in his excitement, snapped his +fingers. “You Hume-Frazers are very fond of defending your +reputations. A fig for them! You are not worthy to consort with +honourable people. I feel assured that when Mr. Layton and his +daughter know the truth about you they will decline to associate +with you.”</p> +<p>Whatever else might be urged against the Italian, he was no +coward. Such language might well have led to a fierce attack on him +by a man so greatly his superior in physical strength. But Robert +sat down, near the door.</p> +<p>“You have some object in coming here to-day,” he +said. “What is it?”</p> +<p>Margaret remained standing near the fire-place. Capella produced +a bundle of papers.</p> +<p>“I am here,” he said, “to unmask the woman who +unfortunately bears my name, and at the same time to prevent you +from getting Miss Layton to marry you under false +pretences.”</p> +<p>“A worthy programme!” observed Frazer suavely. +“You may attain the second part of your scheme, I admit, but +the first seems to be difficult.”</p> +<p>“Is it? We shall see!”</p> +<p>Capella flourished his papers and began a passionate avowal of +the “treachery” practised on him in the matter of +Margaret’s parentage, ending by saying:</p> +<p>“That woman’s mother was the affianced bride of my +father. She deceived him basely. On his death-bed he made me vow my +lifelong hatred of her betrayer and all his descendants. To you, a +cold-blooded Englishman, that perhaps means nothing. To me it is +sacred, imperishable, dearer than life. And to think that I have +been tricked into a marriage with the daughter of the man who was +my father’s enemy. How mad I was not to make inquiries! What +a poor, short-sighted fool! But I will have my revenge! I will +expose your accursed race in the courts! I will not rest content +until I am free from this snare!”</p> +<p>Margaret would have spoken, but her cousin quickly forestalled +her.</p> +<p>“You bring two charges against your wife,” Robert +said. “The first is that she deceived you before marriage; +the second that she is deceiving you now. You contemplate taking +divorce proceedings against her?”</p> +<p>“I do.”</p> +<p>“But you are lying on both counts. There is no purer or +more honourable woman alive to-day than she who stands here at this +moment. You are a mean and despicable hound to endeavour to take +advantage of circumstances attending her birth of which she was in +profound ignorance.”</p> +<p>“She can tell that to a judge,” sneered the Italian. +“I know better.”</p> +<p>Robert rose, his face white with anger.</p> +<p>“Margaret,” he said, “you have heard your +precious husband’s views with regard to you. What do you +say?”</p> +<p>She looked from one to the other—no one knows what +tumultuous thoughts coursed through her brain in that trying +moment—and she answered:</p> +<p>“I am his true and faithful wife, Robert. I have never +been otherwise in word or deed.”</p> +<p>Capella started, as well he might, when he heard the Christian +name of the man who was treating him with such quiet scorn.</p> +<p>“So,” he laughed maliciously, “I have again +been fooled. You are not David, but—”</p> +<p>Frazer strode towards him, and the words died away on his +lips.</p> +<p>“Listen, you blackguard!” he hissed. “Were it +not for the presence of your wife I would choke the miserable life +out of you. Go! We have done with you! You have unmasked your real +character, and I cannot believe that a spark of affection can +remain in your wife’s heart for you after your ignoble +conduct. Go, I tell you! Do your worst. Spit your venom elsewhere +than in this hotel. But first let me warn you. If you dare to +approach Miss Layton, I cannot promise that my cousin David will +treat you as tenderly as I propose to do. He will probably thrash +you until you are unconscious. I simply place you outside this +room.”</p> +<p>He grabbed the Italian by the breast with his right hand, lifted +him high in the air, gathered the papers from the table in his left +hand, and carried his kicking, cursing, but helpless adversary to +the door.</p> +<p>Then he set him down again, opened the door, and remembering +Brett’s advice, assisted him outside, flinging the documents +after him and closing the door.</p> +<p>With impotent rage in his heart, Capella rushed from the hotel +and caught the last train to the south. He had not been in Whitby +two hours, but he was now embarked upon his vengeful mission, and +bitterly resolved to push it to the uttermost extremity.</p> +<p>Margaret had not uttered a sound during the final scene. She +stood as one turned to stone. Robert did not dare to speak to her. +How could he offer consolation to a woman whose tenderest feelings +had been so wantonly outraged?</p> +<p>“Robert,” she said at last, “he spoke of +getting a divorce. I believe he can do this by Italian law. Here it +should be impossible.”</p> +<p>“In that case,” he said calmly, “you and I +will go and live in Italy.”</p> +<p>She placed her hands before her face, and burst into a tempest +of tears.</p> +<p>“Now, my dear girl,” he murmured, “try and +forget that pitiful rascal and his threats. You are well rid of +him. I will leave you now for a little while. In half an hour we +will go and listen to the band until dinner. Really, we have had a +most enjoyable afternoon.”</p> +<p>He went out, placid and smiling, and Margaret sobbed +plentifully—until it became necessary to go to her room and +remove the traces of her grief. So it may be assumed that her tears +were not all occasioned by grief for the contemplated loss of her +ill-chosen mate.</p> +<p>When the others returned from their excursion, Frazer explained +to them all that was needful with reference to Capella’s +visit. Helen was very outspoken in her indignation, and even the +rector condemned the Italian’s conduct in plain terms.</p> +<p>He warmly approved of the resolution arrived at by Robert and +David to return to London next day, and not leave Brett until a +definite stage had been reached in the strangely intricate inquiry +they were embarked on.</p> +<p>They sat late into the night, discussing the pros and cons of +the situation; yet among these five people, fully cognisant as they +were of nearly every fact known to the able barrister who had taken +charge of their affairs, not one even remotely guessed the pending +sequel.</p> +<p>Whilst they were talking and hoping for some favourable outcome, +the night express from York was hurrying Capella to a weird +conclusion of his efforts to discredit his wife. Had he but known +what lay before him he would have left the train at the first +station and hastened to Margaret, to grovel at her feet and beg her +forgiveness for the foul aspersions cast upon her.</p> +<p>It was too late.</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XXXI" id="Ch_XXXI">Chapter XXXI</a></h3> +<h2>To Beechcroft</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Thenceforth, as the French say, events marched. Robert Frazer +faithfully recounted Margaret’s statement to the barrister +and the detective. The “documents,” copies of which +Ooma sent to the ill-fated woman whose sudden accession to wealth +had proved so unlucky for her, were evidently those stolen from the +drawer in the writing-desk at Beechcroft.</p> +<p>Here, at last, was the motive of the murder laid bare.</p> +<p>The Japanese, by some inscrutable means, became aware that the +young baronet possessed these papers, and held them <em>in +terrorem</em> over his reputed sister. In the hands of a third +person, an outsider, they were endowed with double powers for +mischief. He could threaten the woman with exposure, the man with +the revelation of a discreditable family secret.</p> +<p>He visited the library in order to commit the theft, probably +acting with greater daring because he mistook the sleeping David +for his cousin. Having successfully wrenched open the drawer and +secured the papers, still holding in his hand the instrument used +for slipping back the tiny lock, he turned to leave the room by the +open window, and was suddenly confronted by the real Sir Alan, who +recognised him and guessed his object in being present at that +hour.</p> +<p>Brett had gone thus far in his spoken commentary on the affair +as it now presented itself to his mind when Winter asked:</p> +<p>“Why do you say ‘recognised’ him, Mr. Brett? +We have no evidence that Sir Alan had ever seen Ooma?”</p> +<p>“What, none? Search through your memory. Did not the +stationmaster see a third David Hume leave the station that day +when the movements of only two are known to us. What became of this +third personage during the afternoon? Where did he change into +evening dress? Why did Sir Alan leave documents of such grave +importance in so insecure a hiding-place?”</p> +<p>“There is no use in asking me questions I can’t +answer,” snapped the detective.</p> +<p>“Perhaps not. I think you said that you amused yourself in +your Middle Street lodgings by taking to pieces a small electrical +machine fitted together by your companion?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir; but what of that?”</p> +<p>“Let us suppose that, instead of a complex machine he +built a small arch of toy bricks, and you were well acquainted with +the model whilst each brick was numbered in rotation, don’t +you think you could manage to reconstruct the arch after repeated +efforts?”</p> +<p>“I expect so.”</p> +<p>“Well, my dear Winter, we have now got together every +material stone in our edifice. Mrs. Capella’s yielding to +blackmail is the keystone of the arch. Every loose block fits at +once into its proper place. The Japanese, Ooma, must have met Sir +Alan and discussed this very question with him. The baronet must +have unwittingly revealed the family secret, and the Jap was clever +enough to perceive its value. Further, the murder was +unpremeditated, the inspiration of a desperate moment, and the +weapon selected shows a sort of fiendish mandate suggested by +family feud. Ooma is undoubtedly—”</p> +<p>But Smith entered, apologetic, doubtful.</p> +<p>“Mr. Holden is here, sir, and says he wishes to see you +immediately.”</p> +<p>Holden’s news was important. Capella had left Liverpool +Street half an hour ago for Beechcroft, and in the same train +travelled Ooma.</p> +<p>“Are you sure of this?” demanded Brett, excitedly +springing from his chair.</p> +<p>“Quite certain, sir. Mr. Winter’s mate followed him +to the station, and told me who the Japanese was. Besides, no one +could mistake him who had ever seen either of these two +gentlemen.”</p> +<p>He indicated Robert and David.</p> +<p>“Quick,” shouted the barrister. “We must all +catch the next train to Stowmarket. Winter, have you your +handcuffs? This time they may be needed. Smith, run and call two +hansoms.”</p> +<p>He rushed to a bureau and produced a couple of revolvers. He +handed one to Holden.</p> +<p>“I can trust you,” he said, “not to fire +without reason. Do not shoot to kill. If this man threatens the +life of any person, maim him if possible, but try to avoid hitting +him in the head or body.”</p> +<p>To the Frazers he handed the heaviest sticks he possessed. He +himself pocketed the second revolver, and picked up the peculiar +walking-stick which Ooma dropped in Northumberland Avenue.</p> +<p>“Now,” he said, “let us be off. We have no +time to lose, and we must get to Beechcroft with the utmost +speed.”</p> +<p>Winter and he entered the same hansom.</p> +<p>“Why are you so anxious to prevent Capella and Ooma +meeting, sir?” asked the detective, as their vehicle sped +along Victoria Street.</p> +<p>“I do not care whether they meet or not,” was the +emphatic reply. “It is now imperatively necessary that the +Japanese should be placed where he can do no further harm. The man +is a human tiger. He must be caged. If all goes well, Winter, this +case will pass out of my hands into yours within the next three +hours.”</p> +<p>The detective smiled broadly. At last he saw his way clearly, or +thought he saw it, which is often not quite the same thing. In the +present instance he little dreamed the nature of the path he would +follow. But he was so gratified that he could not long maintain +silence, though Brett was obviously disinclined to talk.</p> +<p>“By Jove,” he gurgled, “this will be the case +of the year.”</p> +<p>The barrister replied not.</p> +<p>“I suppose, Mr. Brett,” continued Winter, with +well-affected concern, “you will follow your usual policy, +and decide to keep your connection with the affair +hidden?”</p> +<p>“Exactly, and you will follow your usual policy of +claiming all the credit under the magic of the words ‘from +information received.’”</p> +<p>Winter could afford to be generous.</p> +<p>“Mr. Brett,” he cried, “there is no man would +be so pleased as I to see you come out of your shell, and tell the +Court all you have done. You deserve it. It would be the proudest +moment of your life.”</p> +<p>Then the barrister laughed.</p> +<p>“You have known me for years, Winter,” he said, +“yet you believe that. Go to! You are +incorrigible!”</p> +<p>The detective did not trouble to extract the exact meaning from +this remark. He understood that Brett would never think of entering +the witness-box. That was all he wanted to know.</p> +<p>“Are you quite certain,” he asked, with a last tinge +of anxiety in his voice, “that Ooma will be arrested +to-day?”</p> +<p>“Quite certain, if we can accomplish that highly desirable +task.”</p> +<p>Winter pounded the door of the hansom with his clenched fist</p> +<p>“Then it is done!” he cried. “I’ll truss +him up like a fowl. If he tries any tricks I’ll borrow the +leg-chains from Stowmarket police station.”</p> +<p>At Liverpool Street they all made a hasty meal. They caught the +last train from London and passed two weary hours until Stowmarket +was reached.</p> +<p>There on the platform stood the station-master. He approached +Brett and whispered:</p> +<p>“A man who came here by the preceding train told me that +you and some other gentlemen might possibly follow on. He intended +to telegraph to you, but he asked me, in case you turned up, to +tell you that the Japanese has gone on foot to Beechcroft, and that +Mr. Capella has not arrived.”</p> +<p>“Not arrived!” cried Brett. He turned to Holden. +“Can you have been mistaken?”</p> +<p>Holden shook his head. “I saw him with my own eyes,” +he asseverated, “and to make sure of his destination I asked +the ticket examiner where the gentleman in the first smoker was +going to. It was Stowmarket, right enough.”</p> +<p>“There can be no error, sir,” put in the +stationmaster. “Mr. Capella’s valet came by the train, +and assured me that he left London with his master. Besides, the +carriage is here from the Hall. It was ordered by telegraph. There +is the valet himself. He imagines that Mr. Capella quitted the +train on the way, and will arrive by this one. But there is no sign +of him.”</p> +<p>The mention of the carriage brought a look of decision into the +barrister’s face.</p> +<p>“One more question,” he said to the official. +“Did you see the person described as the Japanese?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir, I did. As a matter of fact, I thought it was +somebody else. It was not until the stranger who arrived by the +train used that name to distinguish him that I understood I was +mistaken.”</p> +<p>The stationmaster looked into Brett’s eyes that which he +did not like to say in the presence of the Frazers. Of course, he +had fallen into the same error as most people who only obtained a +casual glimpse of Ooma.</p> +<p>Brett hurried his companions outside the station. There they +found the Beechcroft carriage, and a puzzled valet holding parley +with the coachman and footman. David Hume’s authority was +sufficient to secure the use of the vehicle, and Brett made the +position easier for the men by saying that, in all probability, +they would find fresh instructions awaiting them at the Hall.</p> +<p>Before the party drove off Winter noticed a local sergeant of +police standing near.</p> +<p>“Shall I ask him to come with us, sir?” he said to +Brett.</p> +<p>The barrister considered the point for an instant before +replying:</p> +<p>“Perhaps it would be better, as we have not got a +warrant.”</p> +<p>Winter grinned broadly again.</p> +<p>“Oh yes, we have,” he cried. “Mr. Ooma’s +warrant has been in my breast-pocket for three days.”</p> +<p>“What a thoughtful fellow you are,” murmured Brett. +“In that case we can dispense with local assistance. We five +can surely tackle any man living.”</p> +<p>“What can have become of Capella?” said David Hume, +when they were all seated and bowling along the road to +Beechcroft.</p> +<p>“It is impossible to say what such a mad ass would be up +to,” commented his cousin. “He has probably gone back +to London from some wayside station, and failed to find his servant +to tell him before the train moved on.”</p> +<p>“What do you think, Mr. Brett?” inquired Winter.</p> +<p>“I can form no opinion. I only wish Ooma was in gaol. For +once, Winter, I appreciate the strength of your handcuffing +policy.”</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XXXII" id="Ch_XXXII">Chapter XXXII</a></h3> +<h2>The Fight</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>It was almost dark by the time they reached the lodge gates. +Brett, moved by impulse, stopped the carriage in the main road. The +others alighted after him. Mrs. Crowe, the lodge-keeper’s +wife, opened the gates, and evidently wondered why the carriage did +not enter.</p> +<p>“Good evening, Mrs. Crowe,” said Brett, advancing. +“Have you seen a telegraph messenger recently?”</p> +<p>“Lawk, sir,” she cried, “I didn’t +recognise you in the gloom! No, sir, there’s been no +messenger, only—”</p> +<p>Then she uttered a startled exclamation.</p> +<p>“Why, there’s Mr. David an’ Mr. Robert! I +could ha’ sworn one of you gentlemen walked up to the house +five minutes ago, an’ I wunnered you never took no notice of +me. Well, of all the strange things!”</p> +<p>“It was a natural mistake,” said the barrister +quietly.</p> +<p>Then he told the coachman to wait where he was until a message +reached him from the house.</p> +<p>He did not want to disturb the visitor who had caused Mrs. Crowe +to “wunner,” nor was there any use in sending the +carriage back to Stowmarket. Somehow, he felt that Capella would +not come to Beechcroft that night.</p> +<p>The five men went rapidly and silently up the avenue. As they +approached the lighted library, they could see a servant parleying +with the Japanese.</p> +<p>A motion of Brett’s hand brought the party into the shade +of the sombre yews.</p> +<p>“You and Holden,” he said to Hume, “go round +to the main entrance, proceed at once to the library door, enter +the room, and lock the door behind you. Be ready with your stick, +and do not hesitate to lunge hard if Ooma attacks you. You, Holden, +keep the revolver handy. It must only be used to save life. The +moment you appear at the door we will rush to the window, which is +open. Ooma must have entered that way. You both +understand?”</p> +<p>They nodded and walked off, clinging to the line of the trees. +The others closed up. Timing their approach with perfect judgment, +they crept over the gravelled road at the bend, and gained the turf +in front of the window.</p> +<p>Ooma’s back was towards them. They could hear his +voice—a queer, high-pitched, yet strident voice—whilst +he questioned a somewhat scared footman as to the whereabouts of +his mistress.</p> +<p>The man had evidently perceived the remarkable resemblance borne +by this uncanny stranger to the Frazer family. His replies were +respectful, but stuttering. He was alarmed by those fierce eyes, +more especially because his inability to give satisfactory +information seemed to anger the new-comer.</p> +<p>“You are not a child,” they heard Ooma say, with +menace in his tone. “You must have heard, from her maid or +some other source, where Mrs. Capella has gone to?”</p> +<p>“N—no, sir,” stammered the man. “I +really ’aven’t I t—t—thought Mrs. +C—Capella was in London. The b—butler says we are all +to ’ave a ’oliday next week.”</p> +<p>“Is there no way in which I can find out where your +mistress is at this moment? I must see her. My business is +important. It cannot wait. It is of the utmost importance to +her.”</p> +<p>Brett, straining without like a hound in the leash, could note a +slight accentuation in the perfect English spoken by Ooma. There +was just a suspicion of the liquid “r” so strongly +marked in Jiro’s utterance. What an uncanny thing is +heredity! It even alters the shape of the roof of the mouth. The +Japanese of English descent could necessarily pronounce English +better than the pure-born native.</p> +<p>The servant within seemed to rack his brains for a favourable +reply.</p> +<p>“You might ask Mr. Capella, sir,” he said at length, +with some degree of returning confidence. “He was expected +here by the last train, but missed it in London, I expect. He is +sure to come to-night, and he will tell you, if you care to +wait.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Capella! Coming by the last train! What is he +like?”</p> +<p>“Do you mean in appearance, sir? He is a small, +dark-complexioned gentleman, with wavy black hair and a very pale +face. He—”</p> +<p>But Ooma turned away from the man, and looked through the +window, with the lambent glare of a wild animal in his eyes. He +instantly saw the three motionless figures, Brett, Winter, and +Robert Hume-Frazer.</p> +<p>They sprang forward. Robert was quickest, and reached the open +window first. The Japanese jumped back and made for the door, but +it opened in his face, and David entered the room. Behind him was +Holden, who made no secret of the fact that he carried a +revolver.</p> +<p>Ooma caught the astounded man-servant by the waist, lifted him +as though he were a truss of straw, and threw him bodily at Robert +Frazer and Winter, bringing both to the ground by this singular +weapon.</p> +<p>It was a fatal mistake to attack the readiest means of exit. Had +he used his human battering ram against Holden and David he might +have escaped. But now he looked into the muzzle of another +revolver, and heard Brett’s stern demand:</p> +<p>“Hands up, Ooma! If you move you are a dead +man?”</p> +<p>Nevertheless, he did move. He seemed to have the agility as well +as the semblance of a carnivorous animal. He bounded sideways +towards the wall of the library, picked up the writing-desk, and +barricaded himself behind it. In the same second he produced a +small, shining article from his waistcoat pocket, and shouted, in a +voice now cracked with rage:</p> +<p>“Stand back, all of you. You may shoot me! I will not be +arrested!”</p> +<p>Winter, swearing, scrambled from the floor. Robert, too, threw +off the yelling servant, and rose to his feet. Alarmed not only by +the curious entry made by David Hume and Holden, but also by the +racket in the library, other servants were now clamouring at the +locked door, for Holden had slipped his left hand behind him and +turned the key. Brett similarly closed the window. They were five +to one, but the one seemed to defy them.</p> +<p>“That be blowed for a tale!” roared the infuriated +detective, whose blood was fired by the manner in which he had been +floored. “I arrest you in the King’s name for the +murder of Sir Alan Hume-Frazer, and I warn you—”</p> +<p>Robert Hume-Frazer waited for no preliminary explanation of an +official character. He wanted to feel that man’s bones crack +under his grasp. He had the strong man’s ambition to close +with an opponent worthy of his thews and sinews. Without any +warning, he made for the Japanese, who seemed to await his oncoming +with singular equanimity, though otherwise quivering with baulked +hate.</p> +<p>But Brett had seen something that aroused a lightning-like +suspicion. Twice had the Japanese looked at a small, shining thing +in his hand, as though to make sure it was there. So the barrister +was just in time to grasp Robert’s shoulder and hold him +back.</p> +<p>“No,” he cried, “you must not touch him. I +command it. He cannot escape.”</p> +<p>“Then let me have a go at him first,” growled +Frazer, whose face was pale with passion.</p> +<p>“No, no. Leave him to me. Winter, do you hear me? Stand +back, I say.”</p> +<p>Brett’s imperative tone brooked no disobedience. Thus, in +a segment of a circle, the five enclosed the one against the +wall—Ooma barricaded by the table, the others ready to defeat +any stratagem he might endeavour to put in force.</p> +<p>“Now listen to me, Ooma,” said the barrister +sternly. “You must drop that thing you have in your right +hand. You must hold both your hands high above your head. If you +move either of them again I will shoot you. If you do not obey me +before I count five I will shoot you. One! Two! +Three!—”</p> +<p>The Japanese, gasping a horrible sort of sob, three times +plunged the instrument he held into his left arm. Then he flung it +straight at Robert. One would have thought his vengeance would be +directed against Brett, whom he must have credited by this time +with his capture.</p> +<p>No; he singled out a Hume-Frazer for his last attack. The +instrument struck a button on Robert’s coat and fell to the +floor, where it lay twisted out of shape by the force of the +impact.</p> +<p>It was a hypodermic syringe.</p> +<p>Again Ooma uttered that weird cry.</p> +<p>“This is the end,” he said. “You have not +beaten me. It is Fate.”</p> +<p>He folded his arms and looked at them. A change came over his +face. He was no longer a tiger at bay, but a human being, calm, +dignified, almost impressive.</p> +<p>“I arrest you—” began Winter.</p> +<p>“You fool!” laughed the Japanese, with a quiet +contempt in his tone; “I shall be dead in twenty minutes. +That syringe contained snake poison, the undiluted venom of the +karait. Put away your pistols. They are not wanted.”</p> +<p>Quite nonchalantly he leaned back against the bookcase that +lined the wall. He turned his eyes to Robert.</p> +<p>“You have the luck of your race,” he said “If +that point had reached your skin no human skill could have saved +you. As it is, you are spared, and I must go. The same blood flows +in our veins, yet you are my enemy. I wish I could once get my +fingers round your throat before my strength fails.”</p> +<p>“Come from behind that table and try,” was the quick +rejoinder.</p> +<p>Ooma made to accept the challenge, but Brett intervened.</p> +<p>“If you are telling the truth,” he said, “you +can spend your brief remaining span of life to better purpose than +in a mad combat with one who has done you no harm. Where is +Capella?”</p> +<p>“I killed him,” was the cool reply.</p> +<p>The footman, who had slowly regained his senses, uttered a groan +of horror. By this time several men, not alone house servants, but +gardeners, grooms, and others, had gathered on the lawn.</p> +<p>“Send away that slave,” cried Ooma impatiently, +“and tell those others to go to their kennels. This is no +place for such.”</p> +<p>Brett knew that the Japanese was in truth about to die. +Afterwards Winter and Holden confessed that they thought the +pretence of injecting snake poison was a mere ruse to gain time. +Robert and David intuitively agreed with the barrister. It was in +their breed to know when eternity yawned for one of them. The very +calmness of the criminal, his magnificent apathy, his dislike of +vulgar witnesses, foreboded a tragedy.</p> +<p>Brett motioned to Holden to open the door, and the footman +gladly made his escape. In response to a wave of the +barrister’s arm the other servants disappeared from view, +though they probably only retreated to a greater distance, and +could see well enough all that happened.</p> +<p>“Yes,” continued Ooma, “I killed Capella. It +was a mistake. Everything is a mistake. It was foolish on my part +to kill Alan Hume-Frazer, even though he was my enemy. I should +have let him live, and tortured him by fear. You English dread +these scandals worse than death. We Japanese fear neither. For I am +a Japanese, and I am proud of it, although my ancestor was David +Hume of Glen Tochan, who fought and killed the man who robbed his +father.”</p> +<p>“But how and why did you kill Capella?” asked +Brett.</p> +<p>“I saw him in the station at London. He followed me. I +puzzled him, I suppose. He perceived the likeness between me and my +dear cousins. We are like one another, are we not, we +Hume-Frazers?”</p> +<p>He laughed mirthlessly, and stared at David and Robert +alternately. Winter broke in with a hasty question:</p> +<p>“If he is speaking the truth about the snake poison, +shouldn’t we send for a doctor?”</p> +<p>No one had thought of this previously. Brett reproached himself +for his forgetfulness. So strange are our civilised notions that we +strive to save a man’s life in order to hang him by due +process at law.</p> +<p>It was Ooma who answered.</p> +<p>“Doctor!” he cried. “Bring him! Bring the +whole College of Surgeons. They can watch me die, and tell you +learnedly why the blood curdles and the heart refuses to act, but +not all their science can beat the venom of the little karait. It +is an Indian snake, more deadly than the cobra, with mightier tooth +than the tiger. I meant to use that syringe on the whole cursed +brood of Frazers in this country. No one would have known what +happened to them. But look you, Fate is too powerful. The karait +stored his poison for me only. I killed only one of the race, and +him I stabbed with a Ko-Katana of my own house.”</p> +<p>Holden left the room to send a messenger post-haste for the +village doctor.</p> +<p>“About Capella?” persisted Brett.</p> +<p>“Ah, Capella. He sought his own death. He looked at me so +oddly that I thought him a spy. I was alone in a carriage when, +half-way here, he ran along the platform at a small station and +joined me. He began to question me. I looked out of the window and +saw that we were coming to a viaduct over a stream between deep +cliffs, so I took the little man and cracked his neck. Then I flung +him over the bridge. It was a mistake. He should have left me +alone.”</p> +<p>He described this cold-blooded murder of the unfortunate Italian +with the weary air of one who recites a tedious episode. The lids +drooped heavily over his eyes.</p> +<p>“I am tired,” he said. “That was a good little +snake. He knew his business. He could make the best of +poison.”</p> +<p>“Surely,” said the barrister solemnly, “you +are not so utterly inhuman that at the very point of death you +still maintain the attitude of a disappointed avenger. What wrong +had all these people done you to demand your murderous +hate?”</p> +<p>Ooma seemed for a moment to rouse himself from lethargy. Once +again the black eyes sparkled with their menacing gleam.</p> +<p>“It is you,” he cried, “you, the thinker, who +question me. I never gave a thought to you, or I would not now be +slowly sinking into death. I might have guessed that a higher +intelligence was at work than that which saw the Ko-Katana with its +motto, and yet failed to read its story. You ask my motives. Can a +man explain heredity? Here”—and he threw a packet of +papers on the writing-desk—“are the proofs of my +identity. It is not long ago, only one hundred and fifty years, +since David Hume was robbed of his birthright, and what is such a +period to the old families of England and Japan? There are men +living in Japan to-day who saw his son in the flesh. I am his +lawful descendant. I came to England and resolved to be an +Englishman. But I needed money. Do you remember our motto, ‘A +new field gives a small crop’? The first Japanese Hume did +not prosper. He was a good fighter, but he saved no yen. So I +applied to my family. I came here on the New Year’s Eve, and +Sir Alan Hume-Frazer saw me walking up the avenue. He stepped out +through that window to meet me. He was surprised at my appearance, +and thought I was his cousin Robert, whom he had not seen for +years.”</p> +<p>At this remarkable statement the four listeners chiefly +concerned looked wonderingly at each other. The main incidents of +the family feud were repeating themselves in a ghostly manner.</p> +<p>Ooma paid no heed to their amazement. He staggered unsteadily to +a chair and sank into it limply. It was the chair which David Hume +occupied when he slept, and dreamed. Not even Winter saw cause for +suspicion in the act. Ooma was dying. His yellow skin was now +green. His lips were white. His whole frame was sinking. At this +phase he became a Japanese, and lost all likeness to the +Frazers.</p> +<p>He continued, with an odd cackle:</p> +<p>“I kept up the error. I demanded money as my right, and +from his words I gathered that the Frazers had been at their old +tricks and defrauded another relative.”</p> +<p>Robert started.</p> +<p>“Do you hear?” he murmured to Brett. “That +accounts for Alan’s strange reception of me the same +day.”</p> +<p>Brett held up a warning hand. Ooma was still talking.</p> +<p>“I taunted him with thriving on the plunder of his own +people. That made him furious. He raved about the world being in +league against him. The only relative he loved, one who was more +than brother, had stolen the woman he wished to marry; his sister +was a living lie; his cousin a blackmailer. I laughed. ‘Do +you disown your sister, then?’ I asked. He took from his +breast-pocket some papers—you will find them there, on the +table—and told me, in great anger, that he possessed proof +that she was not his sister. I was cooler than he, and saw the +value of this admission. I pretended to go away, but hid among the +trees and saw him walk about the library for nearly an hour. I +meant to enter the house if an opportunity presented itself, and, +trusting to my appearance, go to his bedroom, if he changed his +clothes and went out. But he helped me by placing the papers in the +drawer which I afterwards broke open. I saw him meet +you”—he feebly pointed to Robert. “I saw you +arrive in the carriage,” and he indicated David. “Then +I determined to wait until the night. I went back to Stowmarket, +where I left a portmanteau at a small hotel”—Brett knew +that Winter stole a look at him, but he ignored the +fact—“and changed my clothes. In England, at night, a +man in evening dress can enter almost any house. When I returned I +carried my bag with me, as I did not know how I might wish to get +away subsequently. I saw the preparations for the ball. They helped +me. David Hume’s unexpected appearance at midnight upset my +plans. Waiting near the gate, I witnessed Alan’s meeting with +a girl in a white dress. Whilst they were talking, I ran up to the +house and found David asleep in the library. I resolved to act +boldly. Even he would not know what to do if he suddenly discovered +another Frazer in the room. To force open the drawer I picked up +the Japanese sword, and knew it as belonging to my house by the +device on the handle of the Ko-Katana. The thing inspired me. I +obtained the papers, and was going out when I met Alan. He had seen +what I was doing. He called me a cur, and the memory of my +ancestor’s vengeance rushed on me, so I struck him with the +knife, and left it resting in his heart as he fell. Afterwards it +was easy. No one knew me. Those who had seen me thought that I was +either David or Robert Hume-Frazer. I depended on the police and +the servants to complete the mystery. They did. I saw David meet +the same girl in a white dress near the lodge, so I sent the +post-card which I made Jiro write for me. He wrote it badly, which +was all the better for my purpose. I meant David to be hanged by +the law; then I would marry Margaret. That is all. Give me some +brandy. I am dreaming now. I can see curling shapes. Ah!”</p> +<p>He gulped down half a tumblerful of raw spirits hastily procured +by Brett. Again he attempted to shake off the torpid state that was +slowly mastering him. He lifted his eyes feebly to Brett’s +face, and his face contorted in a ghastly smile.</p> +<p>“You!” he croaked. “I should have killed you! +You carried my stick that night in Middle Street. Why was I not +warned? Did you follow the girl from the hotel? I was a fool. I +tried to stop the inquiry by getting rid of David Hume-Frazer. As +if he had brains enough to get on my track! About that girl! She +believes in me. She does not know anything of my past. Do not tell +her. Try to help her. She is coarse, one of the people, as you say +here, but she has courage and is faithful. Help her!”</p> +<p>His head drooped. The action of the brandy, whilst momentarily +stimulating the heart, helped the stupefaction of the brain. It was +a question of a minute, perhaps two.</p> +<p>“Why did you come here to-day?” asked Brett +quickly.</p> +<p>“To see Margaret. She would give me money. I was going +away. That man—I threw from the train—was her husband? +He was not—a proper mate—for a Frazer—or a Hume. +We are—an old race—of soldiers. We know—how to +die. Four of us—fell fighting—in Japan. I am dying! +What a pity!”</p> +<p>His head sank lower. His breath grew faint. His voice died away +in unintelligible words. After a brief silence he spoke again.</p> +<p>The words he used were Japanese. In his weakened consciousness +all he could recollect was the language he learnt from his Japanese +mother—the mother he despised when he became a man and knew +his history.</p> +<p>Winter and Brett were now holding him. The others drew apart. +They afterwards confessed that the death of this murderer, this +tiger-cub of their race, affected them greatly. He was fearless to +the end. The way in which he quitted life became him more than the +manner in which he lived.</p> +<p>There was a bustle without, and the local doctor entered. He +looked wise, profound, even ventured on a sceptical remark when the +barrister explained that Ooma had injected snake-poison into his +arm. But he lifted the eyelids of the figure in the chair and +glanced at the pupils.</p> +<p>“Whatever the cause of death may be, he is undoubtedly +dead!” was his verdict.</p> +<h3><a name="Ch_XXXIII" id="Ch_XXXIII">Chapter XXXIII</a></h3> +<h2>The Last Note in Brett’s Diary</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Winter and Holden were invaluable during the trying hours that +followed. Acting in conjunction with the local police, they caused +a search to be made for Capella’s body. It was found easily +enough. Only once did the line cross such a place as that described +by Ooma, and a bruised and battered corpse was taken out of the +boulder-strewn stream beneath the viaduct.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Winter, writing from Brett’s dictation, drew up +a complete statement of all the facts retailed by the Japanese in +relation to the murders of Sir Alan Hume-Frazer and the unfortunate +Italian.</p> +<p>This they signed, and went to obtain the signatures of the two +cousins, Holden, and the man-servant, for whom a special short +statement had been prepared.</p> +<p>“This is for use at the coroner’s inquest, I +suppose?” inquired David.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Brett. “We must seize that +opportunity to publish all the evidence needed to thoroughly acquit +you of suspicion in relation to your cousin’s death. By prior +consultation with the coroner we can, if you think fit, keep out of +the inquiry all allusions to Mrs. Capella.”</p> +<p>“It would certainly be the best thing to do,” agreed +David, “especially in view of the fact that Robert and I have +burnt those beastly papers.”</p> +<p>He pointed to some shivering ashes in the grate of the +drawing-room, for Ooma occupied the library in the last solemn +stateliness of his final appearance on earth.</p> +<p>“What!” cried Brett. “Do you mean to say that +you have destroyed the documents deposited by the Japanese on the +writing-desk?”</p> +<p>“Not exactly all,” was the cool reply. “We +picked out those referring to Margaret, and made an end of them. We +hope to be able to do the same with regard to papers discovered on +Capella’s body or among his belongings. Those bearing on Ooma +himself are here”—and he pointed to a small packet, +neatly tied up, reposing on the mantelpiece.</p> +<p>“You have done a somewhat serious thing.”</p> +<p>“We don’t care a cent about that. Robert and I have +both agreed that what Margaret has she keeps. There may, in course +of time, be very good reason for this action. Anyhow, I have acted +to please myself, and my father will, I am sure, approve of what I +have done.”</p> +<p>Brett shook his head. No lawyer could approve of these +rough-and-ready settlements of important family affairs.</p> +<p>“Has anyone telegraphed to Mrs. Capella?” he +inquired.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Robert, “I did. I just said +‘Ooma dead; Capella reported seriously ill. Remain in Whitby. +I will join you to-morrow evening.’ That, I thought, was +enough for a start.”</p> +<p>It certainly was.</p> +<p>Soon there came excited messages from both Margaret and Helen +demanding more details, whereupon Brett, who knew that suspense was +more unbearable than full knowledge, sent a fairly complete account +of occurrences.</p> +<p>During the next few days there was the usual commotion in the +Press that follows the opening up of the secret records of a great +and mysterious crime.</p> +<p>It came as a tremendous surprise to David Hume-Frazer to learn +how many people were convinced of his innocence “all the +time.” Being the central figure in the affair, he was +compelled to remain at Beechcroft until Capella and Ooma were +interred, and the coroner’s jury, at a deferred inquest, had +recorded their verdict that the wretched Japanese descendant of the +Scottish Jacobite was not only doubly a murderer, but guilty of the +heinous crime of <em>felo de se</em>.</p> +<p>Brett, in the interim, saw to the despatch of the Italian +witnesses back to Naples. These good people did not know why they +had been brought to England, but they returned to their sunny land +fully persuaded that the English were both very rich and very +foolish.</p> +<p>Winter, in accordance with Brett’s promise, secured a +fresh holiday towards the close of August, and had the supreme joy +of shooting over a well-stocked Scotch moor.</p> +<p>At last, one day in September, Brett was summoned to Whitby to +assist at a family conclave.</p> +<p>He found that Margaret was firm in her resolve never again to +live at Beechcroft. She and Robert intended to get married early in +the New Year and sail forthwith for the Argentine, where, with the +help of his wife’s money, Robert Hume-Frazer could develop +his magnificent estate.</p> +<p>Beechroft would pass into the possession of David, and Helen and +he, who were to be married in October, would settle down in the +house after their honeymoon.</p> +<p>But on one point they were all very emphatic. That ill-fated +library window should pass into the limbo of things that have been. +Already builders were converting the library into an entrance hall, +and the main door would occupy its natural place in the front of +the house.</p> +<p>Let us hope that the return of the young couple after their +marriage marked a new era for an abode hitherto singled out for +tragedy. Their start was auspicious enough, for true love, in their +case, neither ran smoothly nor yielded to the pressure of terrible +events.</p> +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Jiro went to Japan. With them they took the girl, +Rose Dew, and the last heard of them was that the trio were running +a boarding-house in Yeddo, where Mrs. Jiro advertised the +excellence of the food she supplied, and Miss Dew sternly repressed +any attempt on the part of the lodgers to obtain credit.</p> +<p>The last entry in Brett’s note-book, under the heading of +the “Stowmarket Mystery,” is dated six months after the +departure of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Hume-Frazer for the Argentine. It +reads:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“To-day is the anniversary of David Hume’s first +visit to my chambers. This morning I discovered in a corner, dusty +and forlorn, Ooma’s walking-stick. It reminded me of a snake +that was hibernating, so I gave it to Smith, and told him to light +the kitchen fire with it. Then I telegraphed to old Sir David +Hume-Frazer, saying that I gladly accepted his invitation for the +12th. His son, it seems, cannot go North, as he does not wish to +leave his wife during the next couple of months. I suppose I shall +be a godfather at an early date.”</p> +</blockquote> +<h2>THE END</h2> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Stowmarket Mystery, by Louis Tracy + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STOWMARKET MYSTERY *** + +***** This file should be named 14853-h.htm or 14853-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/8/5/14853/ + +Produced by Bill Tozier, Barbara Tozier, and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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