“I think you rang, Miss,” he said in his quiet, deep voice. “I was with the Inspector, Miss, and I couldn’t come before. Was there anything?...” The girl turned in her chair. “Come in and shut the door, Bude,” she said. “I want to speak to you.” The butler obeyed and came over to where she sat. He seemed ill at ease and rather apprehensive. “Bude,” said the girl, “I want you to tell me why you were certain that Mr. Greve was going to Mr. Parrish in the library when he passed you in the hall this afternoon!” The butler smoothed his hands down his trousers in embarrassment. “I thought he ... Mr. Greve ... would be sure to be going to fetch Mr. Parrish in to tea, Miss ...” he replied, eyeing the girl anxiously. Mary Trevert continued gazing into the fire. “You know it is a rule in this house, Bude,” she said, “that Mr. Parrish is never disturbed in the library ...” The butler changed his position uneasily. “Yes, Miss, but I thought ...” Slowly Mary Trevert turned and looked at the man. “Bude,”—her voice was very calm,—“I want you to tell me the truth. You know that Mr. Greve went in to Mr. Parrish ...” Bude looked uneasily about him. “Oh, Miss,” he answered, almost in a whisper, “whatever are you saying?” “I want your answer, Bude,” the girl said coldly. Bude did not speak. He rubbed his hands up and down his trousers in desperation. “I wish to know why Mr. Parrish did this thing, Bude. I mean to know. And I think you are keeping something back!” The challenge resounded clearly, firmly. “Miss Trevert, ma’am,” the butler said in a low voice, “I wouldn’t take it upon me to say anything as would get anybody in this house into trouble....” “You saw Mr. Greve go into Mr. Parrish?” The butler raised his hands in a quick gesture of denial. “God forbid, Miss!” he ejaculated in horror. “What, then, do you know that is likely to get anybody here into trouble?” The butler hesitated an instant. Then he spoke. “That Inspector Humphries has been asking me questions, Miss, in a nasty, suspicious sort o’ way. I told him, what I told him already, that just after I’d done serving the tea Mr. Greve crossed the hall and went down the library corridor....” “You didn’t tell him everything, Bude?” The butler took a step nearer. “Oh, Miss,” he said, lowering his voice, “if you’ll pardon my frankness, but I know as how you and Mr. Greve are old friends, and I wouldn’t take it upon me to tell the police anything as might ...” Mary Trevert stood up and faced the man. “Bude,” said she, “Mr. Parrish was your master, a kind and generous master as he was kind and generous to every one in this house. We must clear up the mystery of his ... of his death. Neither you nor I nor Mr. Greve nor anybody must stand in the way. Now, tell me the truth!” She dropped back into her chair. She gave the order imperiously like the mistress of the house. The butler, trained through life to receive orders, surrendered.