“Mr. Fish,” said Anthony, “had quite a peaceful morning.” Mr. Fish shot a quick glance at him. “Ah, sir, you observed me, then, in my seclooded retreat? There are moments, sir, when far from the madding crowd is the only motto for a man of quiet tastes.” Bundle had drifted on, and the American and Anthony were left together. The former dropped his voice a little. “I opine,” he said, “that there is considerable mystery about this little dust up?” “Any amount of it,” said Anthony. “That guy with the bald head was perhaps a family connection?” “Something of the kind.” “These Central European nations beat the band,” declared Mr. Fish. “It’s kind of being rumoured around that the deceased gentleman was a Royal Highness. Is that so, do you know?” “He was staying here as Count Stanislaus,” replied Anthony evasively. To this Mr. Fish offered no further rejoinder than the somewhat cryptic: “Oh! boy.” After which he relapsed into silence for some moments. “This police captain of yours,” he observed at last, “Battle, or whatever his name is, is he the goods all right?” “Scotland Yard thinks so,” replied Anthony dryly. “He seems kind of hide-bound to me,” remarked Mr. Fish. “No hustle to him. This big idea of his, letting no one leave the house, what is there to it?” He darted a very sharp look at Anthony as he spoke. “Everyone’s got to attend the inquest to-morrow morning, you see.” “That’s the idea, is it? No more to it than that? No question of Lord Caterham’s guests being suspected?” “My dear Mr. Fish!” “I was getting a mite uneasy—being a stranger in this country. But of course it was an outside job—I remember now. Window found unfastened, wasn’t it?” “It was,” said Anthony, looking straight in front of him. Mr. Fish sighed. After a minute or two he said in a plaintive tone: “Young man, do you know how they get the water out of a mine?” “How?” “By pumping—but its almighty hard work! I observe the figure of my genial host detaching itself from the group over yonder. I must join him.” Mr. Fish walked gently away, and Bundle drifted back again. “Funny Fish, isn’t he?” she remarked. “He is.” “It’s no good looking at Virginia,” said Bundle sharply. “I wasn’t.” “You were. I don’t know how she does it. It isn’t what she says, I don’t even believe it’s what she looks. But, oh, boy! she gets there every time. Anyway, she’s on duty elsewhere for the time. She told me to be nice to you, and I’m going to be nice to you—by force if necessary.” “No force required,” Anthony assured her. “But, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you were nice to me on the water, in a boat.” “It’s not a bad idea,” said Bundle meditatively. They strolled down to the lake together. “There’s just one question I’d like to ask you,” said Anthony as he paddled gently out from the shore, “before we turn to really interesting topics. Business before pleasure.” “Whose bedroom do you want to know about now?” asked Bundle with weary patience.