gree of
returning confidence. "He was expected here by the last train, but missed
it in London, I expect. He is sure to come to-night, and he will tell you,
if you care to wait."

"Mr. Capella! Coming by the last train! What is he like?"

"Do you mean in appearance, sir? He is a small, dark-complexioned
gentleman, with wavy black hair and a very pale face. He--"

But Ooma turned away from the man, and looked through the window, with the
lambent glare of a wild animal in his eyes. He instantly saw the three
motionless figures, Brett, Winter, and Robert Hume-Frazer.

They sprang forward. Robert was quickest, and reached the open window
first. The Japanese jumped back and made for the door, but it opened in
his face, and David entered the room. Behind him was Holden, who made no
secret of the fact that he carried a revolver.

Ooma caught the astounded man-servant by the waist, lifted him as though
he were a truss of straw, and threw him bodily at Robert Frazer and
Winter, bringing both to the ground by this singular weapon.

It was a fatal mistake to attack the readiest means of exit. Had he used
his human battering ram against Holden and David he might have escaped.
But now he looked into the muzzle of another revolver, and heard Brett's
stern demand:

"Hands up, Ooma! If you move you are a dead man?"

Nevertheless, he did move. He seemed to have the agility as well as the
semblance of a carnivorous animal. He bounded sideways towards the wall of
the library, picked up the writing-desk, and barricaded himself behind it.
In the same second he produced a small, shining article from his waistcoat
pocket, and shouted, in a voice now cracked with rage:

"Stand back, all of you. You may shoot me! I will not be arrested!"

Winter, swearing, scrambled from the floor. Robert, too, threw off the
yelling servant, and rose to his feet. Alarmed not only by the curious
entry made by David Hume and Holden, but also by the racket in the
library, other servants were now clamouring at the locked door, for Holden
had slipped his left hand behind him and turned the key. Brett similarly
closed the window. They were five to one, but the one seemed to defy them.

"That be blowed for a tale!" roared the infuriated detective, whose blood
was fired by the manner in which he had been floored. "I arrest you in the
King's name for the murder of Sir Alan Hume-Frazer, and I warn you--"

Robert Hume-Frazer waited for no preliminary explanati