He had seen what the others had missed. The colour in Robert's face was due to exposure, but he was otherwise drawn and haggard. His clothes were shabby. He had walked from Stowmarket because he could not afford to hire any means of conveyance. The abject confession compelled by Brett's words was too much for him. He again collapsed into a chair and covered his face with his hands. CHAPTER XVI THE COUSINS Brett was the only person present who kept his senses. Margaret was too shocked, the lovers too amazed, to speak coherently. "Mr. Hume-Frazer has allowed himself to become run down," said the barrister, with the nonchalance of one who discussed the prospects of to-morrow's weather. "What he needs at the moment is some soup and a few biscuits. You, Mrs. Capella, might procure these without bringing the servants here, especially if Miss Layton were to help you." Without a word, the two ladies quitted the room. Robert looked up. "You ring like good metal," he said to the barrister. "Is there any liquor in the dining-room? I feel a trifle hollow about the belt. A drink would do me good." "Not until you have eaten something first," was the firm answer. "Are you so hard up that you could not buy food?" "Well, the fact is, I have been on my beam ends during the past week. To-day I pawned a silver watch, but unfortunately returned to my lodgings, where my landlady made such a fiendish row about the bill that I gave her every penny. Then I pawned my overcoat, raising the exact fare to Stowmarket. I could not even pay for a 'bus from Gower Street to Liverpool Street. All I have eaten to-day was a humble breakfast at 8.30 a.m., and I suppose the sun and the journey wore me out. Still, you must be jolly sharp to see what was the matter. I thought I kept my end up pretty well." David sat down by his side. "Forgive me, old chap," continued Robert. "It broke me up to see that you were happy after all your troubles. You are engaged to a nice girl; Alan is dead; I am the only unlucky member of the family." The man was talking quite sincerely. He even envied his murdered cousin. Nothing in his words, his suspicious mode of announcing his presence, the vague doubts that shadowed his past career, puzzled Brett so greatly as that chance phrase. The ladies came back, laden with good things from the kitchen, which they insisted on carrying themselves, much to the astonishment of the servants. All women are born actresses. Their behaviour before the domestics left the impression that some huge joke was toward in the library. The tactful barrister drew Hume and Helen outside to discuss immediate arrangements. David promised faithfully to return from the rectory in fifteen minutes, and Brett re-entered the library. Robert Hume-Frazer gave evidence of his semi-starvation. He tried to disguise his eagerness, but in vain. Biscuits, sandwiches, and soup vanished rapidly, until Margaret suggested a further supply.