iled Mr. Carrington, "I have picked up a little about the
household. My friends of last night were exceedingly communicative--very
gossipy indeed. I rather gather that omniscience is Mr. Bisset's foible,
and that he is not averse from conversation."

The look in Simon's eye seemed to indicate that his respect for this
easy-going young man was increasing; though whether his liking for him
was also increased thereby was not so manifest. His reply was again a
mere grunt.

"Well, that can easily be arranged," said Carrington, "and it is
obviously the first thing to do."

He blew a ring of smoke from his lips, skilfully sent a second ring in
chase of it, and then turning his monocle again on the lawyer, enquired
(though not in a tone that seemed to indicate any very acute interest in
the question):

"Who do you think yourself murdered Sir Reginald Cromarty?"

XXIII

SIMON'S VIEWS

"Well," said Mr. Rattar deliberately, "I think myself that the actual
evidence is very slight and extremely inclusive."

"You mean the direct evidence afforded by the unfastened window,
position of the body, table said to have been overturned, and so forth?"

"Exactly. That evidence is slight, but so far as it goes it seems to me
to point to entry by the door and to the man having been in the house
for some little time previously."

"Well?" said Carrington in an encouraging voice.

"So much for the direct evidence. I may be wrong, but that is my decided
opinion. No bad characters are known to the police to have been in the
county at that time, and there was no robbery."

"Apparently confirming the direct evidence?"

"Decidedly confirming it--or so it seems to me."

"Then you think there is something in the popular theory that the
present baronet and Miss Farmond were the guilty parties?"

Simon was silent for a moment, but his face was unusually expressive.

"I fear it looks like it."

"An unpleasant conclusion for you to come to," observed Mr. Carrington.
"You are the family lawyer, I understand."

"Very unpleasant," Mr. Rattar agreed. "But, of course, there is no
absolute proof."

"Naturally; or they'd have been arrested by now. What sort of a fellow
is Sir Malcolm?"

"My own experience of him," said the lawyer drily, "is chiefly confined
to his visits to my office to borrow money of me."

"Indeed?" said Carrington with interest. "That sort of fellow, is he? He
writes, I understand."

Simon nodded.

"Any oth