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.

“We will leave the conveyance here,” announced Brett “I prefer to walk to the house.”

The hotel groom went to the horse’s head.  He did not hear the barrister’s question: 

“I suppose both you and your cousin quitted Mrs. Eastham’s house by that side-door and entered the park through the wicket?”

“Yes,” assented Hume, “though I fail to see why you should hit upon the side-door rather than the main entrance.”

“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.”

Brett rattled on in this way, heedless of his companion’s blank amazement, perhaps secretly enjoying it.

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.

“I told you none of these things,” he cried.

“Of course not.  They are obvious.  But tell this good lady that we are going to the Hall.”

Both the main gate and wicket were fastened, and the lodge-keeper’s wife was gazing at them through the bars.

“Hello, Mrs. Crowe, don’t you know me?” cried Hume.

“My gracious, It’s Mr. David!” gasped the woman.

“Why are the gates locked?”

“Mrs. Capella is not receiving visitors, sir.”

“Is she ill?”

“No, sir.  Indisposed, I think Mr. Capella said.”

“Well, she will receive me, at any rate.”

“No doubt, sir, it will be all right.”

She hesitatingly unbarred the wicket, and the two men entered.  They walked slowly up the drive.  Hume was restless.  Twice he looked behind him.

He stopped.

“It was here,” he said, “that the two men dismounted.”

Then a few yards farther on: 

“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.”

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.