ther continued. "I am working almost on
your own lines, Mr. Ledsam, groping in the dark to find a clue, as it
were, but I'm beginning to have ideas about Sir Timothy Brast, just
ideas."

"As, for instance?"

"Well, he stands on rather queer terms with some of his acquaintances,
sir. Now you saw, down at Soto's Bar, the night we arrested Mr. Fairfax,
that not one of those young men there spoke to Sir Timothy as though
they were acquainted, nor he to them. Yet I happened to find out that
every one of them, including Mr. Fairfax himself, was present at a
party Sir Timothy Brast gave at his house down the river a week or two
before."

"I'm afraid there isn't much in that," Francis declared. "Sir Timothy
has the name of being an eccentric person everywhere, especially in this
respect--he never notices acquaintances. I heard, only the other day,
that while he was wonderfully hospitable and charming to all his guests,
he never remembered them outside his house."

Shopland nodded.

"A convenient eccentricity," he remarked, a little drily. "I have heard
the same thing myself. You spent the night at his country cottage, did
you not, Mr. Ledsam? Did he offer to show you over The Walled House?"

"How the dickens did you know I was down there?" Francis demanded, with
some surprise. "I was just thinking as I drove up that I hadn't left my
address either here or at Clarges Street."

"Next time you visit Sir Timothy," the detective observed, "I should
advise you to do so. I knew you were there, Mr. Ledsam, because I was
in the neighbourhood myself. I have been doing a little fishing, and
keeping my eye on that wonderful estate of Sir Timothy's."

Francis was interested.

"Shopland," he said, "I believe that our intelligences, such as they
are, are akin."

"What do you suspect Sir Timothy of?" the detective asked bluntly.

"I suspect him of nothing," Francis replied. "He is simply, to my mind,
an incomprehensible, somewhat sinister figure, who might be capable of
anything. He may have very excellent qualities which he contrives to
conceal, or he may be an arch-criminal. His personality absolutely
puzzles me."

There was a knock at the door and Angrave appeared. Apparently he had
forgotten Shopland's presence, for he ushered in another visitor.

"Sir Timothy Brast to see you, sir," he announced.

The moment was one of trial to every one, admirably borne. Shopland
remained in his chair, with only a casual glance at the n