less gruesome things.
Lorrimore was a brilliant and accomplished conversationalist, and the
time passed pleasantly until, as we men were lingering a little over
our wine, and Miss Raven was softly playing the piano in the adjoining
drawing-room, the butler came in and whispered to his master. Raven
turned an astonished face to the rest of us.

"There's the police-inspector here now," he said, "and with him a
detective--from Devonport. They are anxious to see me--and you,
Middlebrook. The detective has something to tell."

CHAPTER X

THE YELLOW SEA

I am not sure which, or how many, of us sitting at that table had ever
come into personal contact with a detective--I myself had never met
one in my life!--but I am sure that Mr. Raven's announcement that
there was a real live one close at hand immediately excited much
curiosity. Miss Raven, in the adjoining room, the door of which was
open, caught her uncle's last words, and came in, expectantly--I think
she, like most of us, wondered what sort of being we were about to
see. And possibly there was a shade of disappointment on her face when
the police-inspector walked in followed, not by the secret, subtle,
sleuth-hound-like person she had perhaps expected, but by a little,
rotund, rather merry-faced man who looked more like a prosperous
cheesemonger or successful draper than an emissary of justice: he was
just the sort of person you would naturally expect to see with an
apron round his comfortable waist-line or a pencil stuck in his ear
and who was given to rubbing his fat, white hands--he rubbed them now
and smiled, wholesale, as his companion led him forward.

"Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Raven," said the inspector with an
apologetic bow, "but we are anxious to have a little talk with you and
Mr. Middlebrook. This is Mr. Scarterfield--from the police at
Devonport. Mr. Scarterfield has been in charge of the investigations
about the affair--Noah Quick, you know--down there, and he has come
here to make some further inquiries."

Mr. Raven murmured some commonplace about being glad to see his
visitors, and, with his usual hospitality, offered them refreshment.
We made room for them at the table at which we were sitting, and some
of us, I think, were impatient to hear what Mr. Scarterfield had to
tell. But the detective was evidently one of those men who readily
adapt themselves to whatever company they are thrown into, and he
betrayed no eagerness to get to busin