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David promised faithfully to return from the rectory in fifteen minutes, and Brett re-entered the library. Robert Hume-Frazer gave evidence of his semi-starvation. He tried to disguise his eagerness, but in vain. Biscuits, sandwiches, and soup vanished rapidly, until Margaret suggested a further supply.
"Do you mind if I ask you, sir, why you are seeking this information?" he inquired, after a thoughtful pause. "A very proper question. Mr. David Hume-Frazer is a friend of mine, and he has sought my help to clear away the mystery attached to his cousin's death." "But why do you come to me?" "Because you are a very likely person to have some knowledge on the point I raised.
"I meant," she exclaimed, "that you would be sure to laugh at me if I treated you as Davie." "Not at all. I would consider it a cousinly duty to make you believe I was David, and not myself." "Then," she cried, "I will guard against any possibility of error by treating both of you as Mr. Robert Hume-Frazer until I am quite sure." "Waiter!" said David, "where is the barber's shop?"
He called me a cur, and the memory of my ancestor's vengeance rushed on me, so I struck him with the knife, and left it resting in his heart as he fell. Afterwards it was easy. No one knew me. Those who had seen me thought that I was either David or Robert Hume-Frazer. I depended on the police and the servants to complete the mystery. They did.
Robert Hume-Frazer, residing in one of the great hotels in Northumberland Avenue, was knocked down and nearly run over by an omnibus in Whitehall this morning. The skill of the driver averted a very serious accident. It is supposed that Mr. Hume-Frazer slipped whilst attempting to cross before the policeman on duty at that point stopped the traffic.
I do not credit you with employing agents on such terms, so I assume an Imperial gift." The barrister had been looking intently at the other man during this short colloquy. Suddenly his eyes sparkled. He struck a match and held it to his visitor, with the words: "You are quite right, Mr. David Hume-Frazer."
David Hume-Frazer, the man who murdered my wife's brother, has returned, and openly boasts that you are waiting to marry him." "Boasts! To whom, pray?" "To me. I heard him say this not fifteen minutes since." "Where? You do not know him. He could not be here without my knowledge." "Then it is true. You do intend to marry this unconvicted felon?" "Mr.
Even in the dim light Brett needed no second glance to reveal to him the astounding coincidence that this mysterious prowler was Robert Hume-Frazer. "Good evening," he said politely. "Do you wish to see your cousin?" "And who the devil may you be?" was the uncompromising answer. "A friend of Mrs. Capella's." "H'm! I'm glad to hear it. I thought you could not be that beastly Italian."
"That be blowed for a tale!" roared the infuriated detective, whose blood was fired by the manner in which he had been floored. "I arrest you in the King's name for the murder of Sir Alan Hume-Frazer, and I warn you " Robert Hume-Frazer waited for no preliminary explanation of an official character. He wanted to feel that man's bones crack under his grasp.
You know perfectly well that if half the people in this county were asked, 'Who killed Sir Alan Hume-Frazer? they would say 'David Hume. The other half would shake their heads in dubiety, and prefer not to be on visiting terms with David Hume and his wife. No; your brother was killed in a particularly foul way. He died needlessly, so far as we can learn.
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