s,' he said; 'the other came after I
had placed the coffee in the drawing-room. The two Englishmen talked
together and the Princess returned here to the table. She sat there in
that chair, and I brought her cognac and cigarettes. Then I sat outside
upon the bench. It was a feast day, and I had been drinking. Pardon,
Excellency, but I fell asleep. When I woke, your Excellency was standing
by me, but the Princess and the two Englishmen had gone. That is all I
know.'

"I believed that the man was telling me the truth. His fright had
passed, and he was now apparently puzzled, but not alarmed.

"'You must remember the names of the Englishmen,' I urged. 'Try to
think. When you announced them to the Princess what name did you give?'

"At this question he exclaimed with pleasure, and, beckoning to me,
ran hurriedly down the hall and into the drawing-room. In the corner
furthest from the screen was the piano, and on it was a silver tray. He
picked this up and, smiling with pride at his own intelligence, pointed
at two cards that lay upon it. I took them up and read the names
engraved upon them."

The American paused abruptly, and glanced at the faces about him. "I
read the names," he repeated. He spoke with great reluctance.

"Continue!" cried the Baronet, sharply.

"I read the names," said the American with evident distaste, "and the
family name of each was the same. They were the names of two brothers.
One is well known to you. It is that of the African explorer of whom
this gentleman was just speaking. I mean the Earl of Chetney. The other
was the name of his brother, Lord Arthur Chetney."

The men at the table fell back as though a trapdoor had fallen open at
their feet.

"Lord Chetney!" they exclaimed in chorus. They glanced at each other and
back to the American with every expression of concern and disbelief.

"It is impossible!" cried the Baronet. "Why, my dear sir, young Chetney
only arrived from Africa yesterday. It was so stated in the evening
papers."

The jaw of the American set in a resolute square, and he pressed his
lips together.

"You are perfectly right, sir," he said, "Lord Chetney did arrive in
London yesterday morning, and yesterday night I found his dead body."

The youngest member present was the first to recover. He seemed much
less concerned over the identity of the murdered man than at the
interruption of the narrative.

"Oh, please let him go on!" he cried. "What happened then? You say