That is all. Give me some brandy. I am dreaming now. I can see curling shapes. Ah!" He gulped down half a tumblerful of raw spirits hastily procured by Brett. Again he attempted to shake off the torpid state that was slowly mastering him. He lifted his eyes feebly to Brett's face, and his face contorted in a ghastly smile. "You!" he croaked. "I should have killed you! You carried my stick that night in Middle Street. Why was I not warned? Did you follow the girl from the hotel? I was a fool. I tried to stop the inquiry by getting rid of David Hume-Frazer. As if he had brains enough to get on my track! About that girl! She believes in me. She does not know anything of my past. Do not tell her. Try to help her. She is coarse, one of the people, as you say here, but she has courage and is faithful. Help her!" His head drooped. The action of the brandy, whilst momentarily stimulating the heart, helped the stupefaction of the brain. It was a question of a minute, perhaps two. "Why did you come here to-day?" asked Brett quickly. "To see Margaret. She would give me money. I was going away. That man--I threw from the train--was her husband? He was not--a proper mate--for a Frazer--or a Hume. We are--an old race--of soldiers. We know--how to die. Four of us--fell fighting--in Japan. I am dying! What a pity!" His head sank lower. His breath grew faint. His voice died away in unintelligible words. After a brief silence he spoke again. The words he used were Japanese. In his weakened consciousness all he could recollect was the language he learnt from his Japanese mother--the mother he despised when he became a man and knew his history. Winter and Brett were now holding him. The others drew apart. They afterwards confessed that the death of this murderer, this tiger-cub of their race, affected them greatly. He was fearless to the end. The way in which he quitted life became him more than the manner in which he lived. There was a bustle without, and the local doctor entered. He looked wise, profound, even ventured on a sceptical remark when the barrister explained that Ooma had injected snake-poison into his arm. But he lifted the eyelids of the figure in the chair and glanced at the pupils. "Whatever the cause of death may be, he is undoubtedly dead!" was his verdict. CHAPTER XXXIII THE LAST NOTE IN BRETT'S DIARY Winter and Holden were invaluable during the trying hours that followed. Acting in conjunction with the local police, they caused a search to be made for Capella's body. It was found easily enough. Only once did the line cross such a place as that described by Ooma, and a bruised and battered corpse was taken out of the boulder-strewn stream beneath the viaduct. Meanwhile Winter, writing from Brett's dictation, drew up a complete statement of all the facts retailed by the Japanese in relation to the murders of Sir Alan Hume-Frazer and the unfortunate Italian.