h, Deacon?" laughed the novelist
good-humouredly, and he lit a cigarette.

"That's so, sir," replied the big, red-faced man. "Well, I took a short
cut over to The Yews, and got there ten minutes before they did. I hid in
the hedge on the north side of the house, and saw that as soon as they
walked up the drive Mr. Bailey rushed out to welcome them. The lady
seemed very nervous, I thought. I know she was an English lady, because
she spoke to me at the station."

"What were they like?" inquired Summers. "Describe both of them."

"Well, the man, as far as I can recollect, was about fifty or so,
grey-faced, dark-eyed, wearin' a heavy overcoat with astrachan collar and
cuffs. He had light grey suede gloves, and carried a gold-mounted malacca
cane with a curved handle. The woman was quite young--not more'n twenty,
I should think--and very good-lookin'. She wore a neat tailor-made dress
of brown cloth, and a small black velvet hat with a big gold buckle. She
had a greyish fur around her neck, with a muff to match, and carried a
small, dark green leather bag."

Walter stood staring at the speaker. The description was exactly that of
Weirmarsh and Enid Orlebar. The doctor often wore an astrachan-trimmed
overcoat, while both dress and hat were the same which Enid had worn
three months ago!

He made a few quick inquiries of the red-faced sergeant, but the man's
replies only served to convince him that Enid had actually been a visitor
at the mysterious house.

"You did not discover their names?"

"The young lady addressed her companion as 'Doctor.' That's all I know,"
was the officer's reply. "For that reason I was rather inclined to think
that I was on the wrong scent. The man was perhaps, after all, only a
doctor who had come down to see his patient."

"Perhaps so," remarked Walter mechanically. "You say Mr. Bailey is not at
home to-day, so we'll just run over and have a look round. You'd better
come with us, sergeant."

"Very well, sir. But I 'ear as how Mr. Bailey is comin' home this
evenin'. I met Pietro in the Railway Inn at Southminster the night before
last, and casually asked when his master was comin' home, as I wanted to
see 'im for a subscription for our police concert, and 'e told me that
the signore--that's what 'e called him--was comin' home to-night."

"Good! Then, after a look round the place, we hope to have the pleasure
of seeing this mysterious foreigner who comes here to the Dengie Marshes
to make a