"This was rather hard on Mr. Jasher, who was not so vulgar as the landlady made out. He was as stout as Bocaros was lean--a fair, complacent, well-fed, elderly man of the Falstaff tribe. Mr. Jasher looked as though he knew a good dinner when he sat down to one, and was quite able to appreciate delicate cookery and good wines. His round fat face was red and freckled, with rather full lips, twinkling grey eyes, humorous in expression, and his hair was plentiful if rather grey. With his fat hands folded sleepily on his rotund stomach, Mr. Jasher looked anything but an inquiry-agent. Yet that was his profession, as announced by Professor Bocaros. Arnold had received the intimation calmly, though with some astonishment. "Why do you bring this man to me?" he asked curtly. "Do you know who I am?" asked Bocaros in his turn. Arnold nodded. "I do. There was a certain relative of ours who sometimes spoke of you." "Flora Brand?" Arnold nodded again. "Mrs. Brand," said he; "she was Flora Calvert, the daughter of my uncle. Your aunt, professor, was, I understand, her mother. But you doubtless know of the relationship, since she told me that you had seen her." "Twice," interposed Bocaros quickly, and then wiped his mouth. "I saw her five or six years ago, and then shortly before her murder." Jasher looked directly at Calvert as the professor made this statement, hoping to discern some emotion. But Arnold's face, doubtless owing to his stage training, betrayed nothing of his feelings. It looked as cold as the face of a Greek god, which he rather resembled in his looks. "I am aware that Mrs. Brand was murdered," he said; "my lawyers, Messrs. Laing and Merry, told me so the other day." "Did they tell you about the money?" asked Bocaros, his big black eyes fastened eagerly on the face of his cousin. This time Calvert coloured a trifle, and shifted his rather direct gaze. "Yes," he answered; "though I do not know by what right you ask me such a question." "I am your cousin----" "Even that does not entitle you to take such a liberty." "Bocaros looked annoyed. I am the last man to take a liberty with any one," said he coldly, while Jasher's twinkling eyes watched his face and the face of Calvert alternately; "but Flora, when I saw her a week before she was murdered, told me that she had made a will in my favour. When I went to see Merry I was informed that she had changed her mind and had constituted you her heir." "Quite so," assented the young man. "Mr. Merry told me all this, and of your visit. I rather expected a visit from you, professor. You want me to help you with money----" "I want you to offer a reward in order to learn who killed your--our cousin," burst out Bocaros swiftly.