"Tell me, I pray you, who is that gentleman? Do you know him?"
"I don't remember his name, sir, though I did hear it. He was staying down here last week for a night. Tuesday, it was."
"Quick, mon ami, let us follow him."
We hastened up the drive after the retreating figure. A glimpse of a black-robed figure on the terrace at the side of the house, and our quarry swerved and we after him, so that we were witnesses of the meeting.
Mrs. Maltravers almost staggered where she stood, and her face blanched noticeably.
"You," she gasped. "I thought you were on the sea—on your way to East Africa?"
"I got some news from my lawyers that detained me," explained the young man. "My old uncle in Scotland died unexpectedly and left me some money. Under the circumstances I thought it better to cancel my passage. Then I saw this bad news in the paper and I came down to see if there was anything I could do. You'll want some one to look after things for you a bit perhaps."
At that moment they became aware of our presence. Poirot stepped forward, and with
