o gain his confidence. He
felt that if he had done so events might have taken a different course.
But it is difficult to bring youth and age together. Youth sometimes
yields to impulse, but not age. The lurking devil of self-consciousness
whispers caution as the safer quality. Mr. Brimsdown hearkened to the
whisper, and stood there in silence, while the minutes slipped by which
might have bridged the gap.

There was a quick step in the passage outside, and the door opened to
admit Detective Barrant. He looked inquiringly from one to the other, and
addressed himself to the lawyer.

"Are you Mr. Brimsdown?" he asked.

"That is my name," the lawyer replied.

"I am Detective Barrant of Scotland Yard. I wish to speak to you
privately."

His emphasis on the last word was not lost on Charles Turold. With a
slight indifferent nod to Mr. Brimsdown he went out of the room, closing
the door quietly behind him.

"I have come to see you about this letter which you left with Inspector
Dawfield." Barrant produced the letter and took the single sheet from the
grey envelope.

"That is the reason of my presence in Cornwall," said Mr. Brimsdown.

"So I imagined. What can you tell me about it?"

"Very little, except that I received it by the last post at my chambers in
Lincoln's Inn Fields the night after Robert Turold's death."

"But why did he send for you?"

"That I cannot even guess."

"You surely must have some idea."

"If I had I should be only too happy to assist the course of justice by
imparting it to you."

There was a dryness in the tone of this reply which warned Barrant that he
had made a blunder in allowing his irritation to get the better of him.
But his private opinion was that the letter was the outcome of some secret
of the dead man's which he had imparted to his lawyer. He changed his mood
with supple swiftness, in order to extract the information.

"This letter suggests certain things," he said, "some secret, perhaps, in
Robert Turold's life, of which you may have some inkling. If you will give
me some hint as to what it was, it might be very helpful."

"Unfortunately, I am as much in the dark as yourself," returned Mr.
Brimsdown, rubbing his brow thoughtfully. "I cannot make the faintest guess
at the reason which called forth this letter. I know next to nothing of my
late client's private life. He was a man of the utmost reticence in
personal matters. My relations with him were not of that nature."