“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?”

The ex-sailor’s bold eyes did not fall before the barrister’s penetrating glance.

“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—­”

“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.”

“I will treat him as he treats me.  I owe him nothing, at any rate.”

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.

Brett understood that to question him further was to risk a scene—­a thing to be avoided at all costs.

“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.”

“It would be better than walking,” replied Robert wearily, settling into a chair with the air of a man physically tired and mentally perturbed.

Again there was a dramatic pause.  Helen, more alarmed than she wished to admit, gave Margaret a questioning look, and received a trained but reassuring smile.

“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.

“Who on earth can this be?” cried Margaret, blanching visibly,

The vehicle, a dog-cart, drew nearer.  They all went to the window.  Even the indifferent Robert rose and joined them.

Helen startled them by running out to the side of the drive.

“This time I am not mistaken,” she cried hysterically.  “It is Davie!”

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.

She evidently whispered something to him, for his first words to Brett were: 

“How did you find out—­”

But the barrister was not anxious to let the cousin from Argentina into the secret of the search for him.

“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.”