ced at him with an eye of impatience, and resumed his intent
watch upon the face of Marlowe. In the relief of speech it was now less
pale and drawn.

'I do say so,' Marlowe answered concisely, and looked his questioner in
the face. Mr Cupples nodded.

'Before we proceed to the elucidation of your statement,' observed the
old gentleman, in a tone of one discussing a point of abstract science,
'it may be remarked that the state of mind which you attribute to
Manderson-'

'Suppose we have the story first,' Trent interrupted, gently laying a
hand on Mr Cupples's arm. 'You were telling us,' he went on, turning to
Marlowe, 'how things stood between you and Manderson. Now you tell us
the facts of what happened that night?'

Marlowe flushed at the barely perceptible emphasis which Trent laid upon
the word 'facts'. He drew himself up.

Bunner and myself dined with Mr and Mrs Manderson that Sunday evening,'
he began, speaking carefully. 'It was just like other dinners at which
the four of us had been together. Manderson was taciturn and gloomy,
as we had latterly been accustomed to see him. We others kept a
conversation going. We rose from the table, I suppose, about nine. Mrs
Manderson went to the drawing-room, and Bunner went up to the hotel to
see an acquaintance. Manderson asked me to come into the orchard behind
the house, saying he wished to have a talk. We paced up and down the
pathway there, out of earshot from the house, and Manderson, as he
smoked his cigar, spoke to me in his cool, deliberate way. He had never
seemed more sane, or more well-disposed to me. He said he wanted me to
do him an important service. There was a big thing on. It was a secret
affair. Bunner knew nothing of it, and the less I knew the better. He
wanted me to do exactly as he directed, and not bother my head about
reasons.

'This, I may say, was quite characteristic of Manderson's method of
going to work. If at times he required a man to be a mere tool in his
hand, he would tell him so. He had used me in the same kind of way a
dozen times. I assured him he could rely on me, and said I was ready.
"Right now?" he asked. I said of course I was.

'He nodded, and said--"I tell you his words as well as I can recollect
them--attend to this. There is a man in England now who is in this thing
with me. He was to have left tomorrow for Paris by the noon boat from
Southampton to Havre. His name is George Harris--at least that's the
name he is going b