she withdrew as noiselessly as she had entered.

"I see you are looking at our parlour-maid," said Austin Turold, following
the direction of his visitor's glance.

"She's a strange sort of parlour-maid," admitted the detective. "She
reminds me of--of--"

"A study in black and white," suggested his host. "Her face is her
fortune. She's sitting to Brierly--that's my host--for his latest effort.
He's painting her as the Madonna or Britannia--I really forget which. A
new type, you know. The servants in this house are engaged for their
faces. They had a villainous scoundrel of a man-servant--a returned
soldier--engaged as Judas Iscariot, who bolted last week with the silver
spoons. But all this is beside the point, Mr. Barrant, and I must not
waste your time. You have come here for a specific purpose--to turn me
inside out. What can I tell you?"

"I want to know all that you can tell me about your brother's death," said
the other, with emphasis.

"But what can I tell you that you do not already know?" exclaimed Austin,
raising his eyebrows with a helpless look. "Ask me what questions you
like, and I'll endeavour to answer them. When the famous Detective
Barrant--for I understand from the newspapers that you are famous--takes
an interview in hand I expect him to handle the situation in a masterly
fashion, as befits his reputation. So ask your questions, my dear fellow,
and I'll do my utmost to respond." Austin Turold took off his glasses, and
posed himself in an attitude of expectation, with his eyes fixed upon the
detective's face.

Barrant eyed the elder man with a puzzled curiosity which was tolerably
masked by official impassivity. Barrant had his own methods of
investigation and inquiry. He brought an alert intelligence, a seeing eye,
and a false geniality to bear in his work. Unversed in elaborate
deduction, he flattered himself that he knew enough about human nature to
strike the balance of probabilities in almost any case. His cardinal
article of faith was that there was nothing like getting on good terms
with those he was interviewing in order to find out things. Most people
were on their guard against detectives, who too often took advantage of
their position to assume offensive airs of intimidation, whereas the great
thing was to disarm suspicion by a friendly manner. Barrant had cultivated
pleasantness with considerable success. Some who were not good judges of
physiognomy were apt to overlook the watchful