Mr. Fuelling was courteous, but distinctly stiff, in his manner towards the lady who was “connected with the police,” more especially when--her business being transacted--she seemed inclined to tarry for a little while in the busy solicitor’s office, and to lead conversation round to the subject of the murder of Mr. Steadman. “Five years have gone by since then,” said Mr. Fuelling, curtly, in response to a remark from Lady Molly, “I prefer not to revive unpleasant memories.” “You, of course, believed Captain de Mazareen guilty?” retorted my dear lady, imperturbably. “There were circumstances----” rejoined the solicitor, “and--and, of course, I hardly knew the unfortunate young man. Messrs. Truscott and Truscott used to be the family solicitors.” “Yes. It seemed curious that when Sir Jeremiah wished to make his will he should have sent for you, rather than for his accustomed lawyer,” mused Lady Molly. “Sir Jeremiah did not send for me,” replied Mr. Fuelling, with some acerbity, “he sent for my junior, Mr. Steadman.” “Perhaps Mr. Steadman was a personal friend of his.” “Not at all. Not at all. Mr. Steadman was a new arrival in Carlisle, and had never seen Sir Jeremiah before the day when he was sent for and, in a brief interview, drafted the will which, alas! proved to be the primary cause of my unfortunate young partner’s death.” “You cannot draft a will in a brief interview, Mr. Fuelling,” remarked Lady Molly, lightly. “Mr. Steadman did so,” retorted Mr. Fuelling, curtly. “Though Sir Jeremiah’s mind was as clear as crystal, he was very feeble, and the interview had to take place in a darkened room. That was the only time my young partner saw Sir Jeremiah. Twenty-four hours later they were both dead.” “Oh!” commented my dear lady with sudden indifference. “Well! I won’t detain you, Mr. Fuelling. Good afternoon.” A few moments later, having parted from the worthy old solicitor, we were out in the street once more. “The darkened room is my first ray of light,” quoth Lady Molly to me, with a smile at her own paradoxical remark. When we reached home later that afternoon we were met at the garden gate by Mr. Felkin, Mr. Philip Baddock’s friend and agent, who lived with him at Appledore Castle. Mr. Felkin was a curious personality; very taciturn in manner but a man of considerable education. He was the son of a country parson, and at the time of his father’s death he had been studying for the medical profession. Finding himself unable to pursue his studies for lack of means, and being left entirely destitute, he had been forced to earn his living by taking up the less exalted calling of male nurse. It seems that he had met Mr. Philip Baddock on the Continent some years ago, and the two young men had somehow drifted into close acquaintanceship. When the late Sir Jeremiah required a personal nurse-attendant Mr. Philip Baddock sent for his friend and installed him at Appledore Castle.