something had annoyed him so
greatly that a more powerful expletive would have had a very natural
sound.

Brett glared at him.

"It is evident," he said, "that you do not know the meaning of 'Dear me.'
It is simply the English form of the Italian 'O Dio mio!' and a literal
translation would shock you."

"It doesn't appear that much damage has been done to your client," gasped
Winter, for Brett had unceremoniously dragged him from his chair with the
intention of rushing downstairs forthwith.

They hurried out together, and dashed into the waiting hansom.

"Think of it, Winter," groaned the barrister. "Whilst we were seduced by a
dorking and a French sausage--an unholy alliance--the very man we wanted
was waiting in Northumberland Avenue. You are avenged! All my jibes and
sneers at Scotland Yard recoil on my own head. I might have known that
such a desperate scoundrel would soon make another attempt, and next time
upon the right person. You followed Mrs. Jiro. I am led astray by a cooked
fowl. Oh, Winter, Winter, who could suspect such depravity in a roasted
chicken!"

"I'm dashed if I can guess what you're driving at," growled the detective.

"No; I understand. The blood has left your brain and gone to your stomach.
You will not be able to think for hours."

Raving thus, in disjointed sentences that Winter could not make head or
tail of, Brett refused to be explicit until they reached the hotel, when
he discharged the cabman with a payment that caused the gentleman on the
perch to spit on the palm of his hand in great glee, whilst he promptly
wheeled the horse in the direction of his livery stables.

They were met by David himself, seated in the foyer by the side of Helen,
who looked white and frightened.

"This chap is a terror," began Hume, once they were safe in the privacy of
their sitting-room. "I would never have believed such things were possible
in London if they had not actually happened to Robert and me to-day. We
had dinner rather early, and dined in private, as Robert is feeling stiff
now after this morning's adventure. Margaret suggested--"

"Where is Mrs. Capella?" interrupted the barrister.

Miss Layton answered:

"She is with Mr. Frazer. They have found a quiet corner of the ladies'
smoking-room--I mean the smoking-room where ladies go--and we have not
told them yet what has happened to Davie."

"Well," resumed Hume, "Margaret's idea is that we should all leave here
for the North to-morro