“No—von Eckhardstein is an Austrian,” said Lansbury. “Well—I have had dealings with these two—separately, you understand, never together—on various occasions, and always found them very good, straight men of business. Now, very recently, Markenmore wrote to me that he had a business deal on in which I should find it profitable to join, with the idea of developing its results in the States. He told me in a letter what it was—but I do not wish, at present, to tell you, for the thing is a most important secret. I will, of course, tell if it becomes necessary to do so in the interests of justice: that is, if my telling the precise details will help in the arrest of Markenmore’s murderer. But just now I would rather not say, and it’s not relative to the pertinent matter. It’s sufficient to tell you that Markenmore had the chance—an option, in fact—of buying a certain something from a certain somebody, and he invited me to go in with him; his proposition was that I should acquire one-third, he would take up another, and we would find a third man to buy the remaining third. We had a little correspondence about the thing to be purchased—I may tell you that that thing was a trade secret. While we had this correspondence, Markenmore was in London, and I was at either Southampton or at Falmouth—I have business at both places just now. Now, about the middle of last week, Markenmore wrote to me and said that as I was at Southampton, would I meet him at the Sceptre Inn, Markenmore, Selcaster, on the next Monday night?—he was going to Markenmore Court that evening, he said, on family business, and would join me at the Sceptre when it was over—at ten-thirty or so. We fixed this up. I came on from Southampton by an evening train, walked out to Markenmore, booked a room at the Sceptre, and ordered supper for two. While it was being got ready, I took a walk outside—I had been kept indoors a great deal for some days in a close-atmosphered place, and I was enjoying the fresh air. I strolled outside this village of Markenmore, and I met von Eckhardstein.” “A moment,” interrupted Blick. “What time was that?” “It would be between nine-thirty and ten, as near as I can remember,” replied Lansbury. “Dark, then?” “Oh, quite dark! I should not have seen von Eckhardstein but for the fact that I struck a match to light my cigar. He saw me—he was leaning against a gate, close by. He hailed me, and after I had expressed my surprise at our meeting, told me that he was the guest of a lady in the village. Then he wanted to know what I was doing there. It immediately occurred to me that he was the very man to take up the remaining one-third share I have mentioned to you, so I told him my business. I also explained the proposition, and told him what Markenmore and I proposed to do.” “Another question,” said Blick. “Did von Eckhardstein know Markenmore? Had they ever had any dealings?”