ing slightly, and tapping the
blotting-paper with a pen-holder.

"All that Lord Arranmore has told me," he said, "is that my father
occupied a cabin not far from his on the banks of Lake Ono, that they
saw little of each other, and that he only found out his illness by
accident. That my father then disclosed his name, gave him his papers
and your address. There was merely the casual intercourse between two
Englishmen coming together in a strange country."

"That is what I have always understood," Mr. Ascough agreed. "Have
you any reason to think otherwise?

"No definite reason--except Lord Arranmore's unusual kindness to me,"
Brooks remarked. "Lord Arranmore is one of the most self-centred men I
ever knew--and the least impulsive. Why, therefore, he should go out of
his way to do me a kindness I cannot understand."

"If this is really an enigma to you," Mr. Ascough answered, "I cannot
help you to solve it. Lord Arranmore has been the reverse of
communicative to me. I am afraid you must fall back upon his lordship's
eccentricity."

Mr. Ascough rose, but Brooks detained him.

"You have plenty of time for your train," he said. "Will you forgive me
if I go over a little old ground with you--for the last time?"

The lawyer resumed his seat.

"I am in no hurry," he said, "if you think it worth while."

"My father came to you when he was living at Stepney--a stranger to
you."

"A complete stranger," Mr. Ascough agreed. "I had never seen him
before in my life. I did a little trifling business for him in
connection with his property."

"He told you nothing of his family or relatives?"

"He told me that he had not a relation in the world."

"You knew him slightly, then?" Brooks continued, "all the time he was in
London? And when he left for that voyage he came to you."

"Yes."

"He made over his small income then to my mother in trust for me. Did
it strike you as strange that he should do this instead of making a
will?"

"Not particularly," Mr. Ascough declared. "As you know, it is not an
unusual course."

"It did not suggest to you any determination on his part never to return
to England?"

"Certainly not."

"He left England on friendly terms with my mother?"

"Certainly. She and he were people for whom I and every one who knew
anything of their lives had the highest esteem and admiration."

"You can imagine no reason, then, for my father leaving England for
good?"

"Certainly not!"

"You know of