tulations
are not deserved. I have achieved no definite result in either of those
affairs."

M. Fuselier also dropped into a comfortable chair. He lighted a
cigarette.

"You have found out nothing fresh about that mysterious murder of Lord
Beltham?"

"Nothing. I'm done. It is an insoluble mystery to me."

"You seem to be very sorry for yourself, but really you needn't be,
Juve. You cleared up the Beltham case, and you solved the Langrune case,
although you try to make out you didn't. And allow me to inform you,
those two successes count, my friend."

"You are very kind, but you are rather misinformed. Unfortunately I have
not cleared up the Beltham case at all."

"You found the missing peer."

"Well, yes, but----"

"That was an amazing achievement. By the way, Juve, what led you to go
to the rue Levert to search Gurn's trunks?"

"That was very simple. You remember what an excitement there was when
Lord Beltham disappeared? Well, when I was called in I saw at once that
all ideas of accident or suicide might be dismissed, and that
consequently the disappearance was due to crime. Once convinced of that,
I very naturally suspected every single person who had ever had
relations with Lord Beltham, for there was no single individual for me
to suspect. Then I found out that the ex-Ambassador had been in
continuous association with an Englishman named Gurn whom he had known
in the South African war, and who led a very queer sort of life. That of
course took me to Gurn's place, if for nothing else than to pick up
information. And--well, that's all about it. It was just by going to
Gurn's place to pump him, rather than anything else, that I found the
noble lord's remains locked away in the trunk."

"Your modesty is delightful, Juve," said M. Fuselier with an approving
nod. "You present things as if they were all matters of course, whereas
really you are proving your extraordinary instinct. If you had arrived
only twenty-four hours later the corpse would have been packed off to
the Transvaal, and only the Lord knows if after that the extraordinary
mystery ever would have been cleared up."

"Luck," Juve protested: "pure luck!"

"And were your other remarkable discoveries luck too?" enquired M.
Fuselier with a smile. "There was your discovery that sulphate of zinc
had been injected into the body to prevent it from smelling
offensively."

"That was only a matter of using my eyes," Juve protested.

"All right," said