ar as the servants were
concerned". That meant--?'

'He had a conversation with his wife on going to bed. But for that, the
manservant, Martin by name, last saw him in this room. I had his story
last night, and very glad he was to tell it. An affair like this is meat
and drink to the servants of the house.'

Trent considered for some moments, gazing through the open window over
the sun-flooded slopes. 'Would it bore you to hear what he has to say
again?' he asked at length. For reply, Mr. Murch rang the bell. A spare,
clean-shaven, middle-aged man, having the servant's manner in its most
distinguished form, answered it.

'This is Mr. Trent, who is authorized by Mrs. Manderson to go over the
house and make enquiries,' explained the detective. 'He would like to
hear your story.' Martin bowed distantly. He recognized Trent for a
gentleman. Time would show whether he was what Martin called a gentleman
in every sense of the word.

'I observed you approaching the house, sir,' said Martin with impassive
courtesy. He spoke with a slow and measured utterance. 'My instructions
are to assist you in every possible way. Should you wish me to recall
the circumstances of Sunday night?'

'Please,' said Trent with ponderous gravity. Martin's style was making
clamorous appeal to his sense of comedy. He banished with an effort all
vivacity of expression from his face.

'I last saw Mr. Manderson--'

'No, not that yet,' Trent checked him quietly. 'Tell me all you saw
of him that evening--after dinner, say. Try to recollect every little
detail.'

'After dinner, sir?--yes. I remember that after dinner Mr. Manderson and
Mr. Marlowe walked up and down the path through the orchard, talking. If
you ask me for details, it struck me they were talking about something
important, because I heard Mr. Manderson say something when they came
in through the back entrance. He said, as near as I can remember, "If
Harris is there, every minute is of importance. You want to start right
away. And not a word to a soul." Mr. Marlowe answered, "Very well. I
will just change out of these clothes and then I am ready"--or words
to that effect. I heard this plainly as they passed the window of my
pantry. Then Mr. Marlowe went up to his bedroom, and Mr. Manderson
entered the library and rang for me. He handed me some letters for the
postman in the morning and directed me to sit up, as Mr. Marlowe had
persuaded him to go for a drive in the car by moonlight.'