“I take it,” said Hughes kindly, “that we have finished with the lieutenant.  Eh, Inspector?”

“Yes,” said Bray shortly.  “You may go.”

“Thank you,” the boy answered.  As he went out he said brokenly to Hughes:  “I must find him—­my father.”

Bray sat in his chair, staring hard ahead, his jaw thrust out angrily.  Suddenly he turned on Hughes.

“You don’t play fair,” he said.  “I wasn’t told anything of the status of the captain at the War Office.  This is all news to me.”

“Very well,” smiled Hughes.  “The bet is off if you like.”

“No, by heaven!” Bray cried.  “It’s still on, and I’ll win it yet.  A fine morning’s work I suppose you think you’ve done.  But are we any nearer to finding the murderer?  Tell me that.”

“Only a bit nearer, at any rate,” replied Hughes suavely.  “This lady, of course, remains in custody.”

“Yes, yes,” answered the inspector.  “Take her away!” he ordered.

A constable came forward for the countess and Colonel Hughes gallantly held open the door.

“You will have an opportunity, Sophie,” he said, “to think up another story.  You are clever—­it will not be hard.”

She gave him a black look and went out.  Bray got up from his desk.  He and Colonel Hughes stood facing each other across a table, and to me there was something in the manner of each that suggested eternal conflict.

“Well?” sneered Bray.

“There is one possibility we have overlooked,” Hughes answered.  He turned toward me and I was startled by the coldness in his eyes.  “Do you know, Inspector,” he went on, “that this American came to London with a letter of introduction to the captain—­a letter from the captain’s cousin, one Archibald Enwright?  And do you know that Fraser-Freer had no cousin of that name?”

“No!” said Bray.

“It happens to be the truth,” said Hughes.  “The American has confessed as much to me.”

“Then,” said Bray to me, and his little blinking eyes were on me with a narrow calculating glance that sent the shivers up and down my spine, “you are under arrest.  I have exempted you so far because of your friend at the United States Consulate.  That exemption ends now.”

I was thunderstruck.  I turned to the colonel, the man who had suggested that I seek him out if I needed a friend—­the man I had looked to to save me from just such a contingency as this.  But his eyes were quite fishy and unsympathetic.

“Quite correct, Inspector,” he said.  “Lock him up!” And as I began to protest he passed very close to me and spoke in a low voice:  “Say nothing.  Wait!”