“Perfectly.  You have not yet answered my question.  Will Hume fight?”

“I should say that nothing would give him greater pleasure.”

“Then you will arrange this matter?  I can send a friend to you?”

“And if you do I will send the police to you, thus possibly anticipating matters somewhat.”

“What do you mean?”

“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.”

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.

“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?”

“Yes.”

“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.”

“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?”

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.

“James!” he shouted.

The footman entered.

“Take this gentleman to your mistress.  I have done with him.”

“For the present, James,” said Brett.

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.

“Davie did not come with you?” she said when Brett was seated near to her in an alcove formed by an oriel window.

“No.  He is with Miss Layton.”

“Ah, I am not sorry, I prefer to talk with you alone.”

“It is perhaps better.  Your cousin is impulsive in some respects, though self-contained enough in others.”

“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?”

“Yes, and let me add an explanation.  Those two young people are devoted to each other.  No power on earth could separate them.”

“Why do you tell me that?”

“Because I think you wished to be assured of it?”

“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.”