"I Am glad to see you, Blair. Sit down and have some breakfast."

"Aha!" The inspector rubbed his hands as he looked at the well-spread table. "I never say no to a good offer. Thank you, Mr. Thorold, I will peck a bit."

"You are looking well, Blair."

"Never felt better in my life, Mr. Thorold. I have good cause to look jolly."

"Enjoyed your holiday, no doubt," said Alan, as he assisted the officer liberally to ham and eggs. "Where did you spend it?"

"In Brighton--pleasant place, Brighton."

Blair looked so jocular, and chuckled in so pleasant a manner that the Squire guessed he had good news. However, he resolved to let Blair tell his story in his own way.

"What took you to Brighton of all places?" he asked tentatively.

"Well, you might guess. Joe Brill took me."

"Joe Brill?"

The inspector nodded.

"I followed him there."

"But I have seen Joe. He tells me he was at Southampton and in London."

"No doubt--a clever fellow Joe. He knows how to hold his tongue. Well, Mr. Thorold, I hope your troubles about this matter of the lost body will soon be at an end."

"Blair!" Alan bent forward in a state of great excitement. "You have found out something about it?"

"Yes, enough to gain me a thousand pounds."

"Not enough to gain you two thousand pounds?"

"No." Blair's face fell. "But I intend to get that also. However, I have learned all about the theft of Mr. Marlow's body--how it was removed, and why it was removed."

"By Jove! How did you find out?"

"Through Joe Brill. Somehow I suspected Joe from the first. That sovereign he gave Cicero Gramp, you know--I always fancied there was something behind his anxiety to get that man away. So I had him watched, and applied for leave of absence. When he left Heathton I followed as a tourist," chuckled Blair. "Oh, I assure you, Mr. Thorold, I make a very good tourist."

"And he went to Brighton?"

"Yes, direct to Brighton. I went there and found out all about it."

"You don't mean to say that he stole the body!"

"Ay, but I do and with the best intentions, too."

"Was he the short man Cicero Gramp saw with Warrender?"

"He was the short man," replied Blair, finishing his coffee.

"Then, why did he not tell me?" Alan burst out angrily. "I saw him last night, yet he said nothing. He knew how anxious Miss Marlow is about the loss of her father's body."

"Not her father," corrected the inspector. "Achille Lestrange was her father."

"What!" Alan started from his seat. "You know that?"

"I know all--the elopement in Jamaica; the kidnapping of Marie Lestrange, whom we know as Sophy Marlow; the coming of Jean Lestrange to blackmail the girl, and--and--all the rest of it. You see, Mr. Thorold, I interviewed Joe Brill this morning, and he told me all about your conversation with that rascal. I am posted up to date, sir."

"Joe Brill had no business to keep me in the dark," said the squire angrily. "He should have relieved my mind and Miss Marlow's.

"Miss Lestrange," hinted Blair.

"No, sir--Sophia Marlow she is, and Sophia Marlow she will remain until she changes her name for mine. Her father is dead, and Jean Lestrange has no claim on her. Sophia Marlow, Mr. Inspector, if you please."

"Well, well--as you please. We shan't quarrel about a name. Have you anything to smoke, Mr. Thorold?"

Alan got him an excellent cigar, and returned to the point.

"Why did Joe keep me and Miss Marlow in the dark?" he asked.

"Acted under orders, Mr. Thorold."

"Whose orders?"

"Mr. Marlow's, or rather, I should say Mr. Beauchamp's."

"Blair!"

Alan gasped out the name. His face was white and he was appalled at the news. For the moment he believed the inspector must have taken leave of his senses.

"Oh, I dare say your astonishment is natural," said the inspector, lighting his cigar. "I was astonished myself to find the dead man alive and kicking. Yet I should not have been, for I suspected the truth."

Alan had not yet recovered from his amazement.

"You suspected that Mr. Marlow was alive!" he said faintly. "On what evidence?"

"On circumstantial evidence," said Blair smartly. "When I examined the coffin with Mr. Phelps I noticed what he did not. At the sides small holes were bored in inconspicuous places, and the shell of the leaden case was pierced. Only one inference could be drawn from this--that the man had designedly been buried alive. The design must have been carried out by Warrender and the short man. I suspected Joe, from the fact of his having given that sovereign to Cicero, and I watched him. Presuming my belief to be correct, I made certain that sooner or later he would rejoin his master. As I say, he went to Brighton. I followed close on his heels to a boarding-house in Lansdowne Place. There I saw Mr. Marlow."

"Did he recognize you?"

"Of course. While he was living at Heathton I had seen Mr. Marlow several times on business. He made no attempt when I saw him at Brighton to disguise himself--not thinking, I suppose, that his clever scheme to frustrate Lestrange would come to light in this way."

"But, Blair, you did not know about Lestrange then!"

"True enough; but I soon heard the whole story. Mr. Marlow told it to me himself. As you may guess, he was in a great way about my having discovered him, and seeing no means of evading the truth, he told it. I insisted upon it, in fact; and now I know all."

"And how did it come about?"

Blair held up his hand.

"No, Mr. Thorold," said he, "I shall leave Mr. Marlow--I think we had better continue to call him so--to tell his own history. He can do it better than I. Besides," added the inspector, rising briskly, "I............