“Yes, it is Dr. Priestley speaking,” he said. “The asp has struck, Cleopatra. Does that satisfy you? Yes, yes, I know, but circumstances have made it necessary for me to change my plans. Now listen. Put another short paragraph in the papers, to the effect that domestic reasons have made it impossible for Dr. Priestley to carry out his projected lecture tour in Australia. He was recalled by telegram from Paris, where he stopped on his way to join the _Oporto_ at Marseilles, and will shortly return to London. Having done that, get in touch with Inspector Hanslet, and bring him to Corfe Castle by the train leaving Waterloo at 2.30 this afternoon. I will explain the reasons for asking him to come when I see him. I will meet the train at Corfe Castle station. Is that clear?” Apparently it was, for after a further word or two the Professor laid the instrument down. He spent the day within the portals of the inn, to all appearances studying the contents of the Sunday papers, but actually trying to solve some of the problems suggested by his incredible meeting with the Black Sailor. The train came in to time, and out of it stepped Inspector Hanslet and Harold. They glanced at the Professor enquiringly as they greeted him, but asked no questions until they were outside the station. And even then it was the Professor who spoke first. “I am Mr. Deacon here, to the landlord of the inn, at least,” he said. “I will take you there and you can leave your suit-cases. Register in any names you like, but do not divulge your connection with the police, Inspector. It would attract undesirable attention.” Hanslet nodded, and the Professor introduced the two to the landlord as the friends he had been expecting. They left their suit-cases, and then followed the Professor out into the village street. “This is a most interesting country,” he said conversationally. “I should like to show you the Purbeck Hills from the distance. We have, I think, time for a walk before dinner.” Hanslet nodded. “I should be glad of a stroll after sitting in the train,” he replied. “Lead on, Mr. Deacon. You know the way.” The Professor took the lane which led towards the railway line. It was not until they were well beyond the outskirts of the village that he spoke. “I must apologize for my recent actions,” he said at last to Hanslet. “I think you will understand them when I have explained my reasons to you. I was anxious to come here without anybody suspecting my presence. I had formed a theory as to the motive of the murders in Praed Street. Harold, my boy, tell Inspector Hanslet, as concisely as you can, the facts about the arrest and trial of Dr. Morlandson.” Harold obeyed, and as he finished Hanslet nodded. “I remember the case vaguely,” he said. “But I don’t see——”