answer. "Are you
so hard up that you could not buy food?"

"Well, the fact is, I have been on my beam ends during the past week.
To-day I pawned a silver watch, but unfortunately returned to my lodgings,
where my landlady made such a fiendish row about the bill that I gave her
every penny. Then I pawned my overcoat, raising the exact fare to
Stowmarket. I could not even pay for a 'bus from Gower Street to Liverpool
Street. All I have eaten to-day was a humble breakfast at 8.30 a.m., and I
suppose the sun and the journey wore me out. Still, you must be jolly
sharp to see what was the matter. I thought I kept my end up pretty well."

David sat down by his side.

"Forgive me, old chap," continued Robert. "It broke me up to see that you
were happy after all your troubles. You are engaged to a nice girl; Alan
is dead; I am the only unlucky member of the family."

The man was talking quite sincerely. He even envied his murdered cousin.
Nothing in his words, his suspicious mode of announcing his presence, the
vague doubts that shadowed his past career, puzzled Brett so greatly as
that chance phrase.

The ladies came back, laden with good things from the kitchen, which they
insisted on carrying themselves, much to the astonishment of the servants.

All women are born actresses. Their behaviour before the domestics left
the impression that some huge joke was toward in the library.

The tactful barrister drew Hume and Helen outside to discuss immediate
arrangements. David promised faithfully to return from the rectory in
fifteen minutes, and Brett re-entered the library.

Robert Hume-Frazer gave evidence of his semi-starvation. He tried to
disguise his eagerness, but in vain. Biscuits, sandwiches, and soup
vanished rapidly, until Margaret suggested a further supply.

"No, Rita," said her cousin; "I have fasted too often on the Pampas not to
know the folly of eating too heartily. I will be all right now, especially
when Mr. Brett produces the whisky he spoke about."

The barrister brought a decanter from the dining-room. The stranger was
still an enigma. He placed bottle and glass on the table, wondering to
what extent the man would help himself.

The quantity was small and well diluted. So this member of the family was
not a drunkard.

"How did you come to be in such a state?" asked Margaret nervously. "It is
hardly six months since I sent you L500; not a very large sum, I admit,
but all you asked me for, and more t