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By Root 544 0

arrival at Diana’s house, she had at once rung up Admiral Chandler, and they had forthwith gone over to Lyde Manor where they had found tea waiting on the long terrace. And with the tea, three men. There was Admiral Chandler, white haired, looking older than his years, his shoulders bowed as though by an overheavy burden, and his eyes dark and brooding. A contrast to him was his friend Colonel Frobisher, a dried-up, tough, little man with reddish hair turning grey at the temples. A restless, irascible, snappy, little man, rather like a terrier—but the possessor of a pair of extremely shrewd eyes. He had a habit of drawing down his brows over his eyes and lowering his head, thrusting it forward, whilst those same shrewd little eyes studied you piercingly. The third man was Hugh.

“Fine specimen, eh?” said Colonel Frobisher.

He spoke in a low voice, having noted Poirot’s close scrutiny of the young man.

Hercule Poirot nodded his head. He and Frobisher were sitting close together. The other three had their chairs on the far side of the tea table and were chatting together in an animated but slightly artificial manner.

Poirot murmured: “Yes, he is magnificent—magnificent. He is the young Bull—yes, one might say the Bull dedicated to Poseidon . . . A perfect specimen of healthy manhood.”

“Looks fit enough, doesn’t he?”

Frobisher sighed. His shrewd little eyes stole sideways, considering Hercule Poirot. Presently he said:

“I know who you are, you know.”

“Ah that, it is no secret!”

Poirot waved a royal hand. He was not incognito, the gesture seemed to say. He was travelling as Himself.

After a minute or two Frobisher asked: “Did the girl get you down—over this business?”

“The business—?”

“The business of young Hugh . . . Yes, I see you know all about it. But I can’t quite see why she went to you . . . Shouldn’t have thought this sort of thing was in your line—meantersay it’s more a medical show.”

“All kinds of things are in my line . . . You would be surprised.”

“I mean I can’t see quite what she expected you could do.”

“Miss Maberly,” said Poirot, “is a fighter.”

Colonel Frobisher nodded a warm assent.

“Yes, she’s a fighter all right. She’s a fine kid. She won’t give up. All the same, you know, there are some things that you can’t fight. . . .”

His face looked suddenly old and tired.

Poirot dropped his voice still lower. He murmured discreetly:

“There is—insanity, I understand, in the family?”

Frobisher nodded.

“Only crops up now and again,” he murmured. “Skips a generation or two. Hugh’s grandfather was the last.”

Poirot threw a quick glance in the direction of the other three. Diana was holding the conversation well, laughing and bantering Hugh. You would have said that the three of them had not a care in the world.

“What form did the madness take?” Poirot asked softly.

“The old boy became pretty violent in the end. He was perfectly all right up to thirty—normal as could be. Then he began to go a bit queer. It was some time before people noticed it. Then a lot of rumours began going around. People started talking properly. Things happened that were hushed up. But—well,” he raised his shoulders, “ended up as mad as a hatter, poor devil! Homicidal! Had to be certified.”

He paused for a moment and then added:

“He lived to be quite an old man, I believe . . . That’s what Hugh is afraid of, of course. That’s why he doesn’t want to see a doctor. He’s afraid of being shut up and living shut up for years. Can’t say I blame him. I’d feel the same.”

“And Admiral Chandler, how does he feel?”

“It’s broken him up completely,” Frobisher spoke shortly.

“He is very fond of his son?”

“Wrapped up in the boy. You see, his wife was drowned in a boating accident when the boy was only ten years old. Since then he’s lived for nothing but the child.”

“Was he very devoted to his wife?”

“Worshipped her. Everybody worshipped her. She was—she was one of the loveliest women I’ve ever known.” He paused a moment and then said jerkily, “Care to see her portrait?”

“I should like to see it very much.”

Frobisher pushed back his