"Now, my dear girl," he murmured, "try and forget that pitiful rascal and his threats. You are well rid of him. I will leave you now for a little while. In half an hour we will go and listen to the band until dinner. Really, we have had a most enjoyable afternoon." He went out, placid and smiling, and Margaret sobbed plentifully--until it became necessary to go to her room and remove the traces of her grief. So it may be assumed that her tears were not all occasioned by grief for the contemplated loss of her ill-chosen mate. When the others returned from their excursion, Frazer explained to them all that was needful with reference to Capella's visit. Helen was very outspoken in her indignation, and even the rector condemned the Italian's conduct in plain terms. He warmly approved of the resolution arrived at by Robert and David to return to London next day, and not leave Brett until a definite stage had been reached in the strangely intricate inquiry they were embarked on. They sat late into the night, discussing the pros and cons of the situation; yet among these five people, fully cognisant as they were of nearly every fact known to the able barrister who had taken charge of their affairs, not one even remotely guessed the pending sequel. Whilst they were talking and hoping for some favourable outcome, the night express from York was hurrying Capella to a weird conclusion of his efforts to discredit his wife. Had he but known what lay before him he would have left the train at the first station and hastened to Margaret, to grovel at her feet and beg her forgiveness for the foul aspersions cast upon her. It was too late. CHAPTER XXXI TO BEECHCROFT Thenceforth, as the French say, events marched. Robert Frazer faithfully recounted Margaret's statement to the barrister and the detective. The "documents," copies of which Ooma sent to the ill-fated woman whose sudden accession to wealth had proved so unlucky for her, were evidently those stolen from the drawer in the writing-desk at Beechcroft. Here, at last, was the motive of the murder laid bare. The Japanese, by some inscrutable means, became aware that the young baronet possessed these papers, and held them _in terrorem_ over his reputed sister. In the hands of a third person, an outsider, they were endowed with double powers for mischief. He could threaten the woman with exposure, the man with the revelation of a discreditable family secret. He visited the library in order to commit the theft, probably acting with greater daring because he mistook the sleeping David for his cousin. Having successfully wrenched open the drawer and secured the papers, still holding in his hand the instrument used for slipping back the tiny lock, he turned to leave the room by the open window, and was suddenly confronted by the real Sir Alan, who recognised him and guessed his object in being present at that hour.