“We saw Lord Chobham in the garden with a gentleman some one told us was a relative of his, a Mr. Walter Dunsmore.  Did you see them?”

“Yes,” answered Dunn, a little surprised, and giving her a quick and searching look from his bright, keen eyes.  “I saw them.  Why—­”

“I think I’ve seen the one they said was Mr. Walter Dunsmore before, and I can’t think where,” she answered, puckering her brows.  “I can’t think—­do you know anything about him?”

“I know he is Mr. Walter Dunsmore,” answered Dunn slowly, “and I know he is one of the family, and a great friend of Rupert Dunsmore’s.  Rupert Dunsmore is Lord Chobham’s nephew, you know, and heir, after his father, to the title and estates.  His father, General Dunsmore, brought him and Walter up together like brothers, but recently Walter has lived at the Abbey as Lord Chobham’s secretary and companion.  The general likes to live abroad a good deal, and his son Rupert is always away on some sporting or exploring expedition or another.”

“It’s very strange,” Ella said again.  “I’m sure I’ve seen Walter Dunsmore before but I can’t think where.”

Allen came from the bar, having quenched his thirst for the time being, and they started off, arriving back at Bittermeads fairly early in the evening, for Dunn had brought them along at a good rate, and apparently remembered the road so well from the afternoon that he never once had occasion to refer to the map.

He took the car round to the garage, and Allen and Ella went into the house, where Allen made his way at once to the breakfast-room, searching for more whisky and cigars, while Ella, after a quick word with her mother to assure her of their safe return, went to find Deede Dawson.

“Ah, dear child, you are back then,” he greeted her.  “Well, how have you enjoyed yourself?  Had a pleasant time?”

“It was not for pleasure we went there, I think,” she said listlessly.

He looked up quickly, and though his perpetual smile still played as usual about his lips, his eyes were hard and daunting as they fixed themselves on hers.  Before that sinister stare her own eyes sank, and sought the little travelling set of chessmen and board that were before him.

“See,” he said, “I’ve just brought off a mate.  Neat isn’t it?  Checkmate.”

She looked up at him, and her eyes were steadier now.

“I’ve only one thing to say to you,” she said.  “I came here to say it.  If anything happens at Wreste Abbey I shall go straight to the police.”

“Indeed,” he said, “indeed.”  He fingered the chessmen as though all his attention were engaged by them.  “May I ask why?” he murmured.  “For what purpose?”

“To tell them,” she answered quietly, “what I—­know.”

“And what do you know?” he asked indifferently.  “What do you know that is likely to interest the police?”

“I ought to have said, perhaps,” she answered after a pause, “what I suspect.”