"What do you mean?"

"If a little j.a.panese can come to this town and carry off a lady of her size and appearance, what may not a six-foot Englishman hope to accomplish?"

"Oh, go on!"

He took her advice, and went on to the hotel patronised by Mr. Jiro during his visit to Ipswich. The landlord readily showed him the register for the a.s.size week. Most of the guests were barristers and solicitors, many of them known personally to Brett. None of the other names struck him as important, though he noted a few who arrived on the same day as the j.a.panese, "Mr. Okasaki."

He took the next train to London, and reached Victoria Street, to find Mr.

Winter awaiting him, and carefully nursing a brown paper parcel.

"I got your wire, Mr. Brett," he explained, "and this morning after Mr.

Jiro went out alone--"

"Where did he go to?"

"The British Museum."

"What on earth was he doing there?"

"Examining ma.n.u.scripts, my a.s.sistant told me. He was particularly interested in--let me see--it is written on a bit of paper. Here it is, the 'Nihon Guai Shi,' the 'External History of j.a.pan,' compiled by Rai Sanyo, between 1806 and 1827, containing a history of each of the military families. That is all Greek to me, but my man got the librarian to jot it down for him."

"Your man has brains. What were you going to say when I interrupted you?"

"Only this. No fat companion appeared to day, so I called at No. 17 St.

John's Mansions in my favourite character as an old clo' man."

The barrister expressed extravagant admiration in dumb show, but this did not deceive the detective, who, for some reason, was downcast.

"I saw Mrs. Jiro, and knew in an instant that she was the stout gentleman who left her husband at Piccadilly Circus yesterday. I was that annoyed I could hardly do a deal. However, here they are."

He began to unfasten the string which fastened the brown paper parcel.

"Here are what?" cried Brett.

"Mrs. Jiro's coat, and trousers, and waistcoat," replied Winter desperately. "She doesn't want 'em any more; sold 'em for a song--glad to be rid of 'em, in fact."

He unfolded a suit of huge dimensions, surveying each garment ruefully, as though reproaching it personally for the manner in which it had deceived him.

Then Brett sat down and enjoyed a burst of Homeric laughter.

CHAPTER XIX

THE THIRD MAN APPEARS

The Rev. Wilberforce Layton raised no objection to his daughter's excursion to London with Mrs. Capella. Indeed, he promised to meet them in Whitby a week later, and remain there during August. Mrs. Eastham pleaded age and the school treat.

It was, therefore, a comparatively youthful party which Brett joined at dinner in one of the great hotels in Northumberland Avenue.

Someone had exercised rare discretion in ordering a special meal; the wines were good, and two at least of the company merry as emanc.i.p.ated school children.

The barrister soon received ample confirmation of the discovery made by the Stowmarket waiter.

Robert Hume-Frazer was undoubtedly in love with his cousin, or, to speak correctly, for the ex-sailor was a gentleman, he had been in love with her as a boy, and now secretly grieved over a hopeless pa.s.sion.

Whether Margaret was conscious of this devotion or not Brett was unable to decide. By neither word nor look was Robert indiscreet. When she was present he was lively and talkative, entertaining the others with s.n.a.t.c.hes of strange memories drawn from an adventurous career.

It was only when she quitted their little circle that Brett detected the mask of angry despair that settled for a moment on the young man's face, and rendered him indifferent to other influences until he resolutely aroused himself.

Yet, on the whole, a great improvement was visible in Frazer. Attired in one of David's evening dress suits, carefully groomed and trimmed, he no sooner donned the garments which gave him the outward semblance of an aristocrat than he dropped the curt, somewhat coa.r.s.e, mannerisms which hitherto distinguished him from his cousin.

Beyond a more cosmopolitan style of speech, he was singularly like David in person and deportment. They resembled twins rather than first cousins.

They were both remarkably fine-looking men, tall, wiry, and in splendid condition. It was only the slightly more attenuated features of Robert that made it possible, even for Brett, to distinguish one from the other at a little distance.

Helen was pleased to be facetious on the point.

"Really, Davie," she said, "now that your cousin has come amongst us, you must remove your beard at once."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because you are so alike that some evening, in these dark corridors, I shall mistake Mr. Frazer for you."

"That won't be half bad," laughed Robert.

Nellie blushed, and endeavoured to evade the consequences of her own remark.

"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?"

Helen became redder than ever, but they enjoyed the joke at her expense.

The waiter politely informed his questioner that the barber would not be on duty until the morning at 8 a.m.

"Then book the first chair for me!" said David.

"And the second for me!" joined in Robert.

"Mr. Brett," said Margaret, "don't you consider this compet.i.tion perfectly disgraceful?"

"I am overjoyed," he replied. "It appears to me that the result must be personally most satisfactory."