"A friend of Mrs. Capella's." "H'm! I'm glad to hear it. I thought you could not be that beastly Italian." "You are candour itself; but you have not answered me?" "About seeing my cousin? No. I will call when she is less engaged." He turned to go, but Brett caught him by the shoulder. "Will you come quietly," he said, "or by the scruff of the neck?" The other man wheeled round again. That he feared no personal violence was evident. Indeed, it was possible Brett had over-estimated his own strength in suggesting the alternative. The Argentine cousin laughed boisterously. "By the Lord Harry," he cried, "I like your style! I will come in, if only to have a good look at you." They approached the two frightened women. Margaret had recognised his voice, and now advanced with outstretched hand. "I am glad to see you, Robert," she said in tones that vibrated somewhat. "Why did you not let me know you were coming?" "Because I did not know myself until an hour before I left London. Moreover, you might have wired and told me to stop away, so I sailed without orders." The position was awkward. The new-comer had evidently walked from Stowmarket. He had the appearance of a gentleman, soiled and a trifle truculent, perhaps, but a man of birth and good breeding. Helen was gazing at him in sheer wonderment. He was so extremely like David that, at a distance, it was easy to confuse the one with the other. Brett, too, examined him curiously. He recalled "Rabbit Jack's" pronouncement--"either the chap hisself or his dead spit." But it behoved him to rescue the ladies from an _impasse_. "When you reached Stowmarket did the stationmaster exhibit any marked interest in you?" he inquired. "Well, now, that beats the band," cried Robert. "He looked at me as though I had seven heads and horns to match. But how did you know that?" "Merely on account of your marked resemblance to David Hume-Frazer. It puzzled the stationmaster some time ago. By the way, you appear to like the shade of the yew trees outside. Do you always approach Beechcroft Hall in the same way?" The ex-sailor's bold eyes did not fall before the barrister's penetrating glance. "What the deuce has it got to do with you?" he replied fiercely. "Who has appointed you grand inquisitor to the family, I should like to know? Margaret, I beg your pardon, but this chap--" "Is my friend, Mr. Reginald Brett. He is engaged in unravelling the manner and cause of poor Alan's death. He has my full sanction, Robert, and was brought here, in the first instance, by David. I hope, therefore, you will treat him more civilly." "I will treat him as he treats me. I owe him nothing, at any rate."