Clever and self-possessed as Van Zwieten was, this intelligence disconcerted him. He started and frowned. "To London!" he repeated. "He was here a couple of hours ago." Brenda handed him the note left by her father, and turned away. "You can see for yourself. I suppose you will go after luncheon." Van Zwieten read the note and frowned again. "Yes, I will go after luncheon," he said. "In the meantime I will see Captain Burton, I think; oh, yes, I think I shall come to terms with that young gentleman. Till luncheon, Miss Scarse," and, bowing with a mocking smile, he stepped out of the window, leaving Brenda puzzled and uneasy. Meanwhile, Harold was talking with Inspector Woke at the inn. He had found that official waiting for him on his return from the cottage, and had at once consented to his request for a private conversation. He had no idea that Woke suspected him in any way, and answered his questions with the utmost frankness. "I went to the Rectory last night to see Mr. Slocum, who is an old friend of mine," he said, "and left here about eight o'clock. It was shortly after nine when I returned." "At what time did you arrive here?" asked Woke, watching his companion's face. "About ten o'clock." "Oh! and you left the Rectory at nine. Did it take you an hour to walk a quarter of a mile?" Captain Burton stared, and his dark face flushed. "I don't know why you wish me to answer you so precisely," he said haughtily; "but it so happened that I was caught in the storm, and stood under a tree for some time." "The storm again," murmured Woke, rubbing his chin. "Lady Jenny Malet and your brother were both caught in the storm." "I know that," retorted Burton, impatiently. "Lady Jenny was coming to the Rectory to see me on business. This morning I learned that she was caught in the storm and turned back. My brother sprained his foot. I know all this. Well?" "Mr. Malet was murdered at half-past nine." "So the doctor told me. Well?" Harold was so unsuspicious that the inspector felt uncomfortable, and did not know very well how to put his doubts into words. "Did you see Mr. Malet last night?" he asked. "No, I did not." "Oh! If you had, would you have spoken to him?" "What the devil do you mean?" asked Captain Burton, sharply. "Only this. That I have been informed at the Manor--by Roberts the butler, if you want to know--that you and Mr. Malet had a quarrel yesterday." "We had, over family business. That has nothing to do with you." "I'm not so sure about that," said Woke, drily. "You used threats. You said you would make it hot for him." Captain Burton jumped up with clenched fists. "Are you trying to make out that I murdered Malet?" he asked savagely. "If so, put your meaning more clearly, and I shall know how to defend myself."