Antony took the letter from his pocket and spread it out on the grass between them.
"Mark, your loving brother is coming to see you to-morrow, all the way from Australia. I give you warning, so that you will be able to conceal your surprise but not I hope your pleasure. Expect him at three or thereabouts."
"No date mentioned, you see," said Antony. "Just to-morrow."
"But he got this on Tuesday."
"Did he?"
"Well, he read it out to us on Tuesday."
"Oh, yes! he read it out to you."
Bill read the letter again, and then turned it over and looked at the back of it. The back of it had nothing to say to him.
"What about the postmark?" he asked.
"We haven't got the envelope, unfortunately."
"And you think that he got this letter on Monday."
"I'm inclined to think so, Bill. Anyhow, I think—I feel almost certain—that he knew on Monday that his brother was coming."
"Is that going to help us much?"
"No. It makes it more difficult. There's something rather uncanny about it all. I don't understand it." He was silent for a little, and then added, "I wonder if the inquest is going to help us.
"What about last night? I'm longing to hear